Morgenstern and Herondale
by G.MagnusBane8
Summary: Clary Morgenstern, a young passionate shadowhunter, living with her parents and brother, is forced to marry Jace Herondale, son of Stephen and Celine. Clary must marry him so that she and Jace can lead Valentine's group, the Circle, into victory. But, Clary absolutely loathes Jace, who is completely arrogant, annoying, sarcastic and rude. Will she cope with the arranged marriage?
1. Chapter 1

Morgenstern and Herondale

**Hey everyone. Basically, the backstory of this fanfiction is Valentine and Jocelyn had stayed together and raised Jonathan and Clary. Valentine doesn't trust Jonathan to lead the Circle when he dies, so he arranges a marriage for fifteen year old Clary. Jace's parents, Stephen and Celine, are still alive and have raised Jace in Idris. They agree for Jace to marry Clary—but she has other ideas. All characters belong to Cassandra Clare. **

"Come on Clary!" Jonathan taunted and mocked annoyingly, waving his crystallised white seraph blade like an extended arm and grinning a ridiculous arrogant smirk. God, I wanted to slap him. "So, little naïve innocent Clary doesn't want to strike her loving older brother?" He knew how to severely ignite the raging anger inside me. Tightening my rune-sketched hand around a spare shimmering blade, I swung angrily and red-faced towards Jonathan, my flashing angelic blade slicing thinly across his muscular arm, which produced a scarlet bloody welt to appear. His already midnight-black eyes darkened impossibly, narrowing in fury. Growling, Jonathan launched himself towards me swiftly, swiping his blade at my head. I narrowly ducked, missing the stinging dangerous kiss of the sharp weapon. Advancing, my older brother pounced viciously, stunning me and sending me sprawled across the old rickety floorboards uncomfortably. Quickly, I flipped myself onto my queasy stomach, snatching my angelic knife and pushing myself upwards. Landing perfectly on my aching sore feet, I spun and—smack! My face blossomed into a bleeding mess of pain as I collapsed backwards, stretched flat on my back and clutching my bruised—and potentially broken—face. Red fluid streaked down my pale scarred hands, splattering onto the floor and mingling in my scarlet curls. Ouch.

My nose felt crushed and my cheeks were raw and aching. Moaning, I attempted to block Jonathan's laughing and smirking. Idiot. "Oh Clary! If only I had a camera!" Jonathan chuckled, striding towards me loudly. I felt his calloused strong hands tighten around my clammy white arm and yank me violently. Stumbling, I continued to hold my broken face with one hand, whilst shoving him away with the other.

"Go away!" my bubbly voice commanded sternly. I manoeuvred my now bloodied hand so I could see, then I stumbled clumsily towards the old, splintered door, oblivious to Jonathan's never-ending cackling. Flinging open the wooden door, which also had many practice arrows buried deep inside, I stormed in frustration through the featureless, plain hallway. The library door ahead of me began opening; I quickly darted past it, hoping and praying that whoever it was would leave me alone to wallow in depression and defeat. Instead, I heard Valentine, my father, calling me. I sighed, spinning around and covering my nose, mouth and cheeks even more. More thick blood seeped through my scarred, pale fingers, trickling down my arm.

Valentine shook his head in disapproval and exasperation, raking his huge hands through his silvery-blond dishevelled hair—_just like his son_. "Come on." He ordered, spinning around and walking into the elegant library. I followed hesitantly, grumbling. The library was ridiculously huge; old vintage bookcases towered over you, completely packed with different coloured delicate books. But that wasn't what I was looking at—an arrogant, annoying familiar teenager was slumped in front of father's desk, grinning in amusement at me. Jace. My parents and his were good friends, so he was always round, eating our food, using our weapons, ruining our air by contaminating it with his breath. He was a blond, vain, over-sized idiot who didn't understand the meaning of personal space, the phrase 'go away' or manners. Overall, he was the most disturbing, self-obsessed human being (if you could even call him that) ever to exist.

Valentine pushed me forward, forcing me to sit beside Jace, who was busy smirking. Reluctantly, I sunk into the uncomfortable wooden chair, wincing as my face began throbbing again. Blood was soaking my tight, black top, staining my pale skin. Jace obviously noticed and scooted closer to me, too close for comfort.

"You know, picking fights with your brother often ends up like this." He grinned stupidly.

I scraped my chair further away, rolling my exhausted, jade eyes. "_Jace_. Kinda reminds me of _personal space_." I snorted. "Am I giving you a hint, blondie?"

Jace raised his eyebrows incredulously, folding his huge rune-swirled arms across his chest. "I don't know the meaning of personal space, Clary."

I shook my head in disbelief. Valentine suddenly reappeared, sitting opposite me and the constipated-looking moron, who refused to get rid of the smug smile plastered on his face. My stern father handed over his stele. Gratefully, I thanked him and attempted to sketch a healing rune on my arm, whilst clutching my bleeding nose. Jace began laughing and held out his hand for the stele.

"I don't need your help, idiot." I hissed, beginning to trace a rune.

This time, Valentine spoke up. "Clarissa," he scolded. "Jace is trying to help you."

"No, he is not trying to help." I growled, finally able to draw a black rune. There was a slight sting and then everything was fine. My nose stopped bleeding and I could feel my torn, bruised skin closing together. Sighing in relief, I dropped my dirty, blood-drenched hand. "See, I could do it by myself. I don't need a certain stupid, hormonal, pig-headed blond helping me. I am a perfectly capable young woman who _doesn't_ need help." I felt better when I said that. Valentine always underestimated me.

Valentine frowned, eyebrows knitting together. "Clary, don't talk to Jace like that."

I just laughed in shock as I pushed the chair back and stormed from the library. Hopefully, I could find Jonathan soon and warn him of Jace's unfortunate arrival. God, I hated that arrogant blond boy. Sprinting down the corridor, I nearly bumped into my questioning mother, Jocelyn, and almost fell to my ever-nearing death on the steep stairs. At last, I discovered Jonathan, reading in solitude.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgenstern and Herondale 

Jonathan was sprawled across his messy, tangled double bed, looking at me with amusement when he saw me enter his bedroom. His room was completely dirty; used and blood-stained shadowhunter gear flung carelessly across the wooden, dusty floorboards; scratches and punch marks were left indented in the walls, obviously caused by Jonathan's uncontrollable anger. Feeling furious with Jace, I slammed my brother's door, stalking towards him and flinging myself onto his bed beside him. Jonathan raised an eyebrow curiously, turning over to face me.

"Something up?" he asked in confusion, coal-black eyes burning into my bottle-green ones.

I groaned. "Only something called 'Jace Herondale'." I squeezed my tired eyes shut. "He's here…_again_. I thought I'd come and warn you." Jonathan and Jace never got along. Both were arrogant and annoying. Jonathan half-smiled suddenly, reaching out and ruffling my red enlarged curls.

"Jace doesn't come in my room. You can stay here if you want." Jonathan offered.

I laughed. "I can't live in your bedroom for a day or two. Have you seen it?" I looked around. "I'll end up cleaning everything."

"You_ are_ a woman." Jonathan muttered. I punched him violently in the shoulder, whilst he began another aggravating round of chuckling and mocking. I hated all the goddam men in this house who underestimated women—what gave them the right? Jonathan knew I loathed it so he repeatedly teased and taunted me. "Calm down, Clary. I know that women are as good as men when it comes to fighting. I mean, look at you. You'll give Jace a run for his money." I rolled onto my back, ignoring Jonathan. "Clary? Are you upset now? Clary?" I refused to answer, so Jonathan poked me in the ribs. I squealed uncontrollably, curling into a tight fetal position.

"Jonathan! Don't!" I hissed. He continued, laughing as I pounced off the bed, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Jonathan followed and, after a long thirty minutes of wrestling and screaming, I was pinned on the floor, buried beneath the ridiculously amount of dirty, sweaty clothes. Jonathan was booming happily as he dug his long, calloused fingers into my delicate, sensitive sides, listening to me screech. His weight was probably going to crush me soon, but horrible, sharp stings bruised my ribs, tickling me and making me giggle.

Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open, revealing Valentine, who looked angry. My body crystallised in shock; Jonathan froze. "Jonathan, Clarissa." Valentine regarded us, speaking with a disgusted tone. My brother quickly hopped off me and held his hand out, I took it and he yanked me up. Valentine was watching with burning black eyes. "I don't think that was appropriate, do you?" I didn't answer, neither did Jonathan. Instead, we looked at the clothing-covered floorboards. "We are having a family meeting in the dining room. Now."

Valentine turned and left. Once he was out of view, I burst out into fits of laughter, clapping my hand across my mouth. Jonathan rolled his sparkling onyx eyes, snatching my pale, rune-inked hand and pulling me down the empty hallway. I was wondering about this 'family meeting'. When have we ever had a meeting together? Valentine must be going insane.

We finally reached the dining room. The long, dark wooden table held enough room for eight, but only three sat. Valentine was sat straight and regal-looking at the head, drinking some blood-red wine from a sparkly crystal glass and talking to Jocelyn, who was dressed rather smartly in a long scarlet dress. The Idiot sat opposite my mother, on the right of father. He was actually dressed in a suit—and an expensive suit! Jace had brushed his curly gold hair and was dressed smartly! It's a miracle! Me and Jonathan were frozen in the archway, watching the strange atmosphere in the room. I couldn't help it—I blurted out to everyone, "Has someone died?"

Jocelyn frowned at me in disapproval, whilst Valentines death glare almost killed me. Numbly and quiet, I shuffled towards my smart-looking mother, sinking beside her. Jonathan glared at me as he reluctantly sat beside Jace—_why couldn't you sit here?_ his eyes spoke to me. I shrugged slightly, intently listening to the awkward silence that hung thickly in the cold, empty air. My mother broke the silence. "Why aren't you in your dress, Clary?"

Ugh. The dress. It was the one that Jocelyn picked for me when we went shopping. It is floor-length and a boring cream colour—a horrible figure-hugging dress, constricting my waist and legs. There is two red spaghetti straps holding it up. I absolutely hated it. Instead of saying everything out loud, I simply said, "Nobody told me it was a special occasion."

"I told you, Clarissa, that we are having a family meeting." Valentine interrupted strictly, glaring at me with narrowed night eyes.

I snorted sarcastically. "And what? 'Family meeting' is code for 'wear-your-ridiculously-tight-stupid-dress-that-li kes-to-irritate-your-skin-and-annoy-you-all-evenin g' time?"

Valentine's eyes darkened, boring into my immediately pale freckled face. "Go and get dressed. Now." He commanded, voice horribly calm for someone so angry. I sighed aloud and raised from my seat, walking in frustration from the dining room.

As soon as I reached my bedroom, I snatched a plumped big pillow from my neatly made bed and screamed into it, swearing profanities like a madwomen. I released the soft object and stormed to my old, paper-covered wardrobe, flinging it open and pulling out the death dress. Launching the dress on my bed, I examined the paper-stuck wardrobe, laughing gently at the pictures I have drawn. Jonathan, Valentine, Jocelyn, Luke—my mothers and father friend—Stephen, Celine and Jace. I had drawn Jace after Jonathan fought with him. In the sketch, he was drawing a healing rune on his arm, a look of annoyance plastered on his bruised face.

Giggling, I undressed and pulled on the dress, my mouth twisting into a grim line. I looked in the mirror; the dress was stuck tightly to me, cream with red straps. I looked hideous!


	3. Chapter 3

Morgenstern and Herondale

After twirling my red curls into a tight knot and securing it with some glittering, sparkly chopsticks, I slipped on a pair of scarlet shoes, which matched my dress straps, and reluctantly left my bedroom. Chewing my lip, I navigated around the Morgenstern Manor, finally arriving at the dining room. Ignoring Valentine and Jocelyn's relieved faces, I returned to my seat opposite Jonathan, who had also changed; he wore smooth black trousers and a crisp white shirt that clashed with his hair.

"Are you guys happy now?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "You've forced me into my worst dress. What, by the angel, is going on?" Jace began smirking—stupid, blond, grinning, monkey-faced idiot. He obviously knew what was going on then. "Go on. Tell me—hey," I turned to my mother, shock plastered onto my face. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

Jocelyn laughed, Valentine shook his head in exasperation, Jonathan was grinning and Jace was watching the conversation with interest, waiting for something. Heat flooded through my cheeks in embarrassment. My father spoke, "We have some good news for _you_, Clarissa."

"For me? Good news? Tell me." I urgently said, excitement blossoming inside me. Maybe it was some sort of holiday? I hardly ever left the Manor. Or maybe we're moving or something? But, my excitement sizzled and faded when I saw their faces—like they were trying to find the best way to tell me. "Tell me." How was this good news?

Valentine cleared his throat. "Well, Clarissa. Since Jonathan isn't…compatible with leading the Circle once I am dead and buried, we have decided to choose you for the leading position."

I flicked my widened green eyes to Jonathan, who was frowning in annoyance and anger. Poor Jonathan. "Why can't Jonathan lead the circle?"

Valentine's eyes narrowed. "I told you. He isn't compatible with the leading position."

"I don't understand." I rubbed my tired, confused eyes. "You're the one who wants your son to lead the Circle. You told me years ago."

"Enough," Valentine growled. "There's more to talk about. Look, Clary. I need a man to lead the Circle, someone trustworthy." My red delicate eyebrows knitted together.

"What are you saying?" I murmured suspiciously.

Valentine sighed. "_What_ I am saying, is that you need a husband, and we have found the perfect person for you, Clarissa." Blood immediately drained from my cheeks, leaving my body crystallised in complete surprise and shock. My stomach dropped, leaving an empty sick feeling. "Clary, your fiancé is Jace." I jerked my hand—a simple reaction—and spilt my mother's glass of wine. The red liquid soaked through the sapphire tablecloth.

"Clary!" Jocelyn shrieked, leaping up and grabbing a napkin. She dabbed off her dress and the table. Valentine looked mildly annoyed, Jace looked smug and Jonathan was daydreaming into the tablecloth. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do.

"This—this is a joke, right?" I squeaked quietly, feeling green and disgustingly nauseas. "I—I can't marry _that_!" I flung a finger at Jace, who was grinning at my outburst. "I m-mean…look at him! You can't possibly want me marrying _that_!" I stood up abruptly. "You can't do this to me! I didn't sign up for this crap!" I pushed away from the table and stalked from the room, sprinting through the corridors into my bedroom. I slammed the door loudly and snatched my stele. After sketching a locking rune, I ripped off my dress, changed into pajamas—comfortable pink shorts and a white vest top—and then scrubbed my teeth and washed my face. I hadn't even had dinner tonight and I wasn't remotely hungry. I saw the time; eight o'clock. Oh well. I need an early night. To make sure I wasn't bothered during the night, I steadied myself on the wardrobe and pushed, placing the huge, heavy block of wood in front of the door.

I climbed into my bed, thinking. How could my parents do this to me? I thought that my mother would at least be against the stupid idea. What had possessed them to do this? Just because Valentine needed a goddamned heir to the Circle. A stupid gang of friends who hate the Clave—why would I want to be in charge of that?! Do my parents hate me that much?

And what was with Jace? He was almost happy! Freaking weirdo! I hated that self-obsessed blond. He looked relieved and excited for this wedding! Ugh. Jonathan was the only one sane in this house—and he was half-demon for crying out loud! He actually responded like some normal teenager; sulking and staring at nothing. Maybe he could talk some sense into Valentine and Jocelyn, or maybe even knock Jace out for me.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps, and then rattling on the door handle. I buried myself under the thick duvet, my heart thundering quickly. The door clicked—_unlocked_. After sighing, the person began pushing at the wardrobe, grunting. I clamped my eyes shut, holding the covers tightly across my face and pretending to be asleep. Finally, I heard footsteps entering my messy-looking bedroom, walking towards me and gently sinking onto the bed. The bed dipped.

"Clary?" that annoying voice whispered. He actually had the nerve to break into my bedroom! I heard Jace's suit rustle as he reached towards the duvet, pulling it backwards. The cold air tickled my body. I faked stirring in my 'sleep', making it more convincing. He obviously bought it, because that idiot was silent, watching me sleep. What a creep! I felt warmth on my face as he began stroking my cheek. That was it!

I ripped open my blazing eyes, clenched my fist and smashed my whitened knuckles into his shocked face. Jace collapsed with a loud thump onto the hard floorboards, clutching his face and moaning pathetically. I folded my arms across my chest, sat cross-legged on the bed accusingly. Jace saw me and pulled himself up, holding his bruised nose. "Sorry. I'm sorry." Jace apologised, trying to calm me. "Let me explain. Please."


	4. Chapter 4

Morgenstern and Herondale 

"No." I gritted my teeth hard, keeping myself from screaming at the interfering blond bimbo. "Don't explain. Get out." Rubbing my throbbing, painful temples, I sighed deeply. "Look, I'm tired and I can't be bothered to deal with your annoying face right now."

Jace frowned, releasing his bruised face. His golden skin was blossoming black and a small trickle of scarlet blood seeped from his nose. "No girl has ever said that to me before._ Or_ punched me in the face, for that matter. Why can't you be like the others?"

I snorted an incredulous laugh, rolling my exasperated jade eyes. "What, a giggling bimbo with a bucket of makeup slapped onto my face? No thank you." Fumbling under my pillow, I snatched my glowing white seraph blade, pointing it at him. "Look, my life would be much, much easier if I just kill you now! So get lost before I do."

"Fine, fine." Jace held his arms up in surrender and anger. "I was just trying to talk and make things better, okay? It's not my fault I caught someone on their time of the month!" He laughed. "But, then I better get used to it, since you're my wife."

I tightened my hand around the blade, standing up from the tangled bed. "You did not just say that."

"Say what, wife?" Jace grinned. I screeched and pounced at him, smashing hard into his chest and sending him sprawled across the floorboards. Straddling him, I pulled my clenched fist back and smashed it into his face. He groaned and dodged the next attack, swearing. Unfortunately, Valentine had picked the wrong moment to enter my bedroom.

"Clarissa!" Valentine shouted, squeezing past the wardrobe and wrapping his muscular arms around my waist, attempting to pry me off. I punched Jace again, his hot blood spurting onto my hands. The skin of my knuckles ripped, causing four painful bloody welts to appear. "Clarissa! Let go!" Valentine growled. Annoyingly, he managed to tear me off Jace, holding me to his chest. "Jonathan!" my father called out, summoning my brother.

Jonathan sprinted into the bedroom, frowning at the wardrobe and then laughing at the scene before him. His wild animal-like sister thrashing around in Valentine's restricting arms, blood covering her hands and arms. Jace lying on the floor with a bruised face. I must look like a bloody mess to him.

Valentine tightened his grip on me, almost suffocating my small body. "Clarissa, calm down," he whispered in my ear. Anger was burning and bubbling inside me, causing me to breathe heavily and clench my teeth almost painfully. "Jonathan, take Jace to his room." My brother walked towards Jace and hauled him up violently. As he walked past, I leaped for Jace again, but Valentine yanked me back, whispering for me to "Calm down" again.

Valentine pulled me from my blood-splattered bedroom, dragging me to his office/study. He shoved me inside and locked me in, alone. He called out, "I will only come in when you have calmed down." I heard his footsteps receding.

Whirling around, I memorized every detail of the office; it had painted cream walls and a rich oak floor, a matching dark drinking cabinet was located in a corner and opposite was a sleek desk. Everything was packed away neatly, except a couple of scribbled-on loose papers. I could feel my fury and anger simmering down to nothing, except a certain horror-filled dread that immediately occupied my stomach. But, the dread turned to something else—excitement. Maybe Jace wouldn't want me as his wife anymore. Maybe I was free! But, this was Jace. He probably got excited about that fight. I shivered and sunk into the swivel seat opposite his chair. Pushing myself into the middle of the room, I spun around on the chair, ignoring the squeaking protests it made. At least I could entertain myself in this boring situation. Whilst spinning, I admired my bloody sliced knuckles. They were only scrapes, but they were my trophies!

Continuing spinning, I didn't acknowledge the door unlocking, until I saw Valentine walking to his seat opposite. Very swiftly, I ceased twirling and coughed in embarrassment, trying to hide my flaming hot cheeks. Frowning, Valentine walked towards his drink cabinet, gripping hold of the crystal handle and opening it quickly. He snatched a glass and a small bottle of orangey-brown liquid. Sinking into the chair, my father poured half a glass and downed it. He filled another glass to the rim and began sipping it slowly. Awkward silence hung in the air.

"Clarissa, your behaviour today has been unacceptable."

I laughed emotionlessly. "You're lucky I haven't burnt this house down."

He narrowed his eyes. "What is wrong with you, Clary? Aren't you happy to get married?"

"No!" I yelled incredulously. "Of course I'm not happy! What did you think I would be like? Excited? You and mum just want to get rid of me! I'm just a burden to you and_ that's_ exactly why you're doing this!" My eyes began watering and puffing, my normally strong voice turning weak and bubbly. "You and mum just want to be rid of me! Ugh! I should've seen this coming! Anyone could see it! I'm so goddam blind!" Tears stained my flushed cheeks.

Valentine groaned, rubbing his eyes and gulping the alcohol. "Calm down. Jocelyn and I love you, you know that—or you_ should_ know that. I have trained you and brought you up, Clary. You are my daughter. What do I have to do to show you that?"

"Call off the wedding." I suggested angrily.

Valentine sighed. "I can't do that." He shook his head. "Just go back to bed. I won't punish you for today. But, Jace needs an apology tomorrow morning."

I slammed the door loudly as I escaped the intimidating office, tears streaking hotly across my cheeks. I couldn't deal with this wedding. Especially with Jace Herondale. I hate him and I always will. Stupid, blond freak.


	5. Chapter 5

Morgenstern and Herondale

The next morning, I reluctantly peeled myself from my tangled bed, ignoring the blood-splattered floor and walking towards the bathroom. Flicking on the switch, I groaned as the piercing yellow light invaded my tired, red-rimmed eyes. I had probably been crying all night, cursing my father, mother and Jace for this ridiculous wedding. Breathing deeply, I splashed freezing cold water onto my flushed face, dousing the depressed burning on my stained cheeks. I was strong and brave. I wouldn't cry in front of Jace.

After brushing through my knotted ringlets, I jumped into the shower. The calming hot water massaged my muscles, soothing me. I was daydreaming about yesterday's chaotic events; me and Jonathan's fight, the hellish family meeting, the announcement, the fight in my bedroom and the lecture afterwards. Sighing, I wrapped myself in a fluffy white towel and walked into my room.

Changing into a faded, ripped pair of blue jeans and a plain scarlet top, I slipped on my favourite pair of worn combat boots and pocketed my stele. I was wondering about Valentine's demand yesterday. I had to apologize to Jace. Like _that_ was going to happen.

Slamming the door behind me, I planned to avoid Jace and my father all day. Thankfully, I knew the routine in this house. Everyone was probably gathered in the dining room, chatting and talking whilst chewing their breakfast. So, I will not go to breakfast. Simple.

Quickly, I began running down the hallway, adamant to arrive at Jonathan's room without being spotted or discovered. Each sharp corner I rounded made my heart thunder uncomfortably. After what seemed like forever, I found Jonathan's featureless door. Swinging it open, I stepped inside, listening intently. The shower was still running, which meant that Jonathan was late for breakfast. Shrugging, I leapt onto his unmade double bed, burying myself in the cotton black covers. Laying on my side, I breathed in the smell of Jonathan—he smelt like the outside, fresh and safe.

"What are you doing?" I heard someone say. Turning over slowly, I saw Jonathan, standing with muscular crossed arms in the bathroom door. He only wore a towel. Yelping, I slapped my rune-swirled hands across my widened eyes, gritting my teeth.

"You moron!" I yelled. "Get changed!" I heard him chuckling and then I heard footsteps. The bed dipped. "Jonathan, get changed. Now." Warm arms wrapped around my waist, hauling me into his lap. "You weirdo! Let go and get dressed!" I giggled as my annoying older brother began jabbing me in the ribs again, tickling me. Squirming, I thrashed and wiggled around in his lap, laughing uncontrollably. "Stop! Stop! Please stop!"

Jonathan kissed my head and stopped, grabbing my hands, which were still clamped on my eyes, and attempting to pry them off. "Why won't you look at me?" Jonathan asked curiously, still trying to pull away my stiff arms.

"Because you're practically naked!" I exclaimed. "You're such a strange boy!" I laughed.

Jonathan sighed. "Fine. Hang on." His weight left the bed and I heard drawers flying open and clothes rustling. Rolling my bottle-green eyes, the whole bed bounced, making me fly upwards and sprawl backwards. My brother had pounced onto the bed, he was now hovering over me. Jonathan cocked his head, white soft hair spilling into his onyx black eyes. "Better?"

I scoffed, yanking myself into an uncomfortable sitting position. "Better. Well—kind of."

"What's wrong now?" Jonathan moaned, exasperated.

"What's wrong?!" I asked, shocked. "How can you ask that? I have to marry Jace Herondale, live with him, have children with him, lead a rebellious group of people with him, grow old with him, fight with him and then die with him! 'What's wrong' is an understatement!"

Jonathan boomed a startling laugh. "Okay. I'm sorry. I've been upset too, you know." I raised an eyebrow. "I can't lead the Circle! Valentine thinks that I'm too demon to follow instructions." I knew that Jonathan was half greater demon, but I didn't let it bother me. He was still my brother.

"Okay, how about you marry Jace and lead the Circle. I have no objections!" I offered, grinning a goofy smile. Jonathan laughed, standing up abruptly.

"You coming to breakfast?" he asked.

I snorted. "You joking? Father expects me to apologize to Jace this morning, so I'm hiding out in your bedroom—if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind, stupid. Stay as long as you like—make yourself at home!" Jonathan chuckled, spreading his rune-inked arms and walking from the room, shutting the door.

"Bring me something to eat afterwards!" I called out to him. Deciding to snoop around, I searched the clothing-dumped bedroom, flinging open drawers and looking at the mini-bookcase. I found a few crunched up letters and blood-stained blades. Nothing important.

Finally, I gave up and flung myself onto the bed. Rubbing my aching temples, I laid down, enjoying the peace and quiet. I was wondering what my future held for me. Somehow, I would find a way to be rid of this wretched marriage. For good.

Suddenly, I heard the door creak open slightly. Launching myself upwards, I leaped at the door, causing it to slam loudly, blocking off whoever it was. Someone swore. "Hey, let me in." It was Jace. Cocky son of a—

"Let me in Clary!" he shouted. "I won't try anything funny. I swear." I refused to budge. "If you don't move I promise you I will knock this door down." Pressing all my weight onto the door, I gulped. One moment I was leaning, the next, I was sprawled flat on the floor, pain blossoming angrily through my back. Jace was stood, hair dishevelled and eyes concerned, in the doorway. He walked inside, grimacing at the messy, dirty room, and kneeled beside me. Slowly, Jace grabbed my hand and yanked me up. The pain was ebbing away, but not the anger that was raging inside me.

"What, by the angel, do you want?"


	6. Chapter 6

Morgenstern and Herondale 

"Please, Clary. We need to talk." Jace almost begged, not letting go of my shaking hand. Frowning, I snatched it back swiftly, making sure he caught my burning death glare. Before I could walk out of Jonathan's now destroyed bedroom, Jace quickly switched positions, standing arms crossed and leaning on the doorframe, smirking happily at my uncovered plan. My jaw set in annoyance. "We really need to have a talk, Clary."

"I really don't want to talk, Jace." I hissed his name, standing with my hands on my hips stubbornly. I knew I was being totally unreasonable, but this was Jace. The one boy who I have practically grown up with. The one who always played pranks on me. The one who always made fun of me. The one I absolutely hate. And here he was, standing before me, wanting to talk about _our_ wedding. I shivered.

Jace grinned. "I do." Stupid Jace and his crappy wedding jokes. Rolling my furious eyes, I indicated for him to start talking. "I'm not going to lecture you! You need to talk too!" Jace argued.

"I don't want to talk. I can't be bothered to talk." I yawned. Jace shook his head, golden curls bouncing. Sinking onto the bed, I scrubbed at my eyes.

Jace stalked over and sat beside me, annoyance clear on his face. "Look, I'm trying my best, okay? I want to make you comfortable with this wedding."

"And why is that your job, huh? Why not my mother or father or even goddam Jonathan?!" I gritted my teeth hard, burying one pale hand in my already-knotted curls.

"Because I'm going to be your husband." Jace sighed, exasperated and tired. "I am going to be your husband, Clary. Why can't you understand that?"

I groaned. "Because maybe I don't want you to be my husband. I'm sixteen for god's sake! And, we hate each other." Shaking my head, I added, "Why can't you go and marry someone else?"

Jace laughed emotionlessly. "I don't hate you, Clary. By the angel, I don't _hate_ you. You're just different from anybody else. I mean, I _could_ hate you. You've punched me in the face enough times for me to hate you. But I don't." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Just, marry me and be my wife."

And suddenly everything clicked. "You—you didn't…" I gasped. Somehow, this was Jace's idea. The marriage, the Circle, everything. My breathing turned erratic and crazy, making me pant as I jumped up and whirled to face Jace, who was looking faintly sheepish and sick. "You didn't think of this, did you?!"

Jace stood up, towering over me. "No, but—"

"But what?!" I shouted, anger flashing before my eyes.

He looked away—either in embarrassment or guilt. "I—I offered."

My chest was heaving, my heart pummelling my ribs painfully. "You offered what?"

"I was there when Valentine thought of the idea. But he didn't know who should marry you." Jace visibly gulped, paling. "And then—I offered to."

The whole world was crumbling around me. This wasn't even an arranged marriage for Jace. He practically proposed! My heart lurched in my throat. "Get out." I murmured.

"Clary—" Jace started, but I immediately cut him off.

"GET OUT!" I screamed.

Jace's jaw set. "I tried, okay?! I tried to talk and get you ready for our wedding! Don't blame me when you're walking down the aisle, about to get married to a stranger! I tried to befriend you! I goddam tried! You are going to be my wife, if you like it or not!" Jace didn't get out, instead, he ran towards me, grabbed my arms and swung me around. He pinned me to the wall and pressed his lips to mine. I was thrashing and attempting to push him off. Jace's lips were moving against my unwilling ones, so I took his bottom lip and tried to bite. But, the idiot mistakes this for passion and deepens the kiss, groaning into my mouth. Wiggling around, I push my hands against his chest and shove as hard as I can. Jace finally let's go of my lips, his flushed face inches from mine. "Be nice," he whispered, inching towards my mouth again.

Growling, I raise my hand and slap him, really hard. His lips tug into a smile and he leans forward again. What was wrong with this guy? His lips engulf my shocked open ones again. Jace wraps his arms around me to prevent me from moving and continues where he left of. I scratch, slap, punch at him, but the perverted prat doesn't budge. Instead, Jace takes advantage and uses his tongue. Repulsed, I snap, biting him.

Jace finally leaps backwards, hand clamped over his bleeding tongue. "Well, that was nice—except for the last bit." I walk towards him and swing my hand around, backhanding him violently across the cheek. "Seriously, Clary. You better get used to it. You'll be my wife soon and I'm not playing nice on our wedding night." Jace winced, holding his cheek.

"There won't be a wedding night. You can go out and play with one of your bimbos that night." I growled. Jace frowned.

"I wouldn't do that." He argued. "I would never do that to you."

"Well, that's a shame for you. Because you won't be getting any for a very, very long time." I smirked, victorious.

"We'll see about that, wife." Jace grinned, challenging.

I curled my lip in disgust. "Ugh. In your dreams."

"Yep." Jace popped the p and began walking towards the broken down door. "Valentine actually sent me to escort you to breakfast. And he says you have to apologize to me."

"Shove it." I snapped. "I can make my own way to breakfast, Jace. I'm not stupid."

"And the apology?" he inquired, smiling mockingly.

I snorted, shoving him out the door. "Funny, real funny."

"See you in the dining room, my beautiful little wife."

"If you're not careful, you will be calling me a beautiful little widow." I threatened. Jace raised his hands in surrender and rushed down the hallway. Freaking blond idiot, I hope you trip.


	7. Chapter 7

Morgenstern and Herondale

At the breakfast table, everything was completely and utterly awkward. Valentine's burning black orbs bored into my flushed face, demanding me to apologize to Jace. My father was sat at the head of the table, Jonathan and Jocelyn beside him. I was sat beside my smirking brother, opposite the disgusting boy named Jace.

God, this was embarrassing. My father cleared his throat aloud, startling me. I refused to apologize. Slowly, I began picking at my flavourless cereal, ignoring the harsh glares and amused grins. How did Valentine know I was hiding? He must be psychic as well as persistent. "Clarissa." I heard Valentine scold. I flicked my eyes nervously to his. "Have you got something to say to Jace?"

Pretending to think, I fingered my chin cheekily, knowing that I was pushing my luck. "Oh yeah!" I faked remembering. Looking at Jace, I sarcastically said, "Good morning."

Valentine clicked his neck in aggravation, whilst Jonathan sniggered quietly. I wouldn't ever apologize to him—especially after the unwanted kiss. "Clarissa. Apologize to him."

Jocelyn then looked between us. "What's going on? Apologize for what?"

Jace turned to my confused, questioning mother, plastering a fake angelic smile on his punch-able face. "Your daughter punched me. It's nothing to worry about, Mrs Morgenstern." Stupid arse-licking boy. I knew he was trying to suck up to Jocelyn.

"Clary, you didn't!" my mother gasped, turning to me in complete shock.

I nodded. "I did."

"Oh. For goodness sake." She closed her eyes, exasperated.

"Do you want to know what _he_ did?! Huh?!" I shouted.

Valentine frowned. "No. We don't. Your assaulted your fiancé, Clary."

"He is not my goddamned fiancé!" I half-screamed, getting ridiculously angry with my meant-to-be-loving family. "Seriously! This marriage was forced upon me! What do you want me to do? Tackle him off the table and have a passionate make out session?!" Jace grinned at the idea. I continued, oblivious to him. "Do you really hate me that much to send me away and marry a complete prat!"

Valentine pushed himself from the food-packed dining table, walking around and violently snatching a handful of my brushed red curls. I was hauled upwards painfully, obeying as he dragged me towards the hallway. My mother stood up and followed, leaving Jace and Jonathan watching intently. "Don't hurt her!" Jocelyn pleaded.

"She needs to learn." My father hissed, tightening his grip on my hair. "Jace follow me." I heard a chair scrape horribly and then reluctant footsteps. We were marching down the corridor; I just listened to the creaking of our steps and Valentines angry heavy breathing. Reaching a door, Valentine unlocked it and pulled me inside, causing me to groan at the tearing pain of my scalp. Jace followed. The room was practically empty, except a pair of blood-stained manacles were drilled into the wall. My father shoved me towards them, forcing my face into the wall and strapping the cold metal cuffs onto each hand. I just observed the wall, counting how many flecks of dried blood there was. I had never been punished before, but I knew Jonathan had. This was his blood.

I heard an old floorboard being wrenched up and objects being fumbled around with. Then I heard Jace; it sounded as if he was pacing. "Is this really necessary?" he asked.

"She needs to learn, Jace." Valentine grunted. I heard him stand up and walk towards me. He grabbed my hair again, yanking my head back so he could see me. "Now, my daughter, you will apologize to Jace." I scoffed and Valentine released my hair. I rested my sweating forehead against the cool plaster of the wall, forgetting about the blood or dust. Hearing the clunk of a knife, my heart sped up uncontrollably. I felt my father's breath on my neck as he grabbed the back of my shirt and swiftly swiped the knife downwards, slicing my shirt in half. Thankfully, the shirt covered my front.

That's when I felt it. A flash of pain burning on my back. He actually whipped me. Another crack and I bit my lip, feeling hot fresh blood well and spill down my back. Ouch. Slash, another quick flash of pain flared. Three lashes. "What do you say to Jace, Clary?" This was a joke. Nothing. Growling, there was another crack, and another, and another. Each time, I refused to apologize. I was too stubborn. On the tenth lash I screamed out in pain, biting my lip so hard that blood trickled down slowly. Time passed surprisingly quickly, and on the twentieth crack, tears began streaking down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! I'm sorry!" I screeched.

"For what, Clarissa?"

I had to think suddenly. My mind had gone blank. The twenty-first flick of the whip on my tender sore back reminded me though. Screaming painfully, I sobbed, "I'm sorry, Jace! I'm sorry for punching you! Please—god, I'm so sorry!"

I heard the click of the handcuffs and then I was on my knees, my hands clamped across my flushed, pain-stricken face. Why did I apologize? Ugh! I'm so weak! I heard Valentine say to Jace, "Do what you want with her." He then left. I needed to get to my bedroom—painfully, I searched my pockets and couldn't find my stele. Where the hell was it? I dropped onto my hands and knees and crawled around, moving towards the door to find it being blocked by Jace. He looked very pale.

"Go on," I said weakly to him, my voice painfully dry. "Rub it in my face."

Jace winced at my ripped bleeding back. "You think I would do that?" he whispered, kneeling down. I could feel the thick blood rolling off me. Jace had a hand across his mouth, watching me. He stuck his hand into his jean pocket and held my arm steady whilst he sketched a healing rune. Jace hauled me up and lead me carefully from the room, supporting my weight.


	8. Chapter 8

Morgenstern and Herondale 

I hated being close to Jace Herondale, but I had no choice. My back was severely scratched and ripped with bloody welts, and, even though I had a new healing rune, the burning pain refused to budge. I cried out and, reacting on my instincts, pushed Jace away, leaning on the nearest hallway wall. Self-consciously, I held my ripped open shirt to my chest, feeling embarrassed that he could see my exposed back. Although, I'd rather he see my back than my breasts any day.

The pain was finally ebbing away, folding into nothing. Jace reached for me, but I held my hands up, indicating for him to back off. He frowned. "Let me help you, Clary."

"You helping my father got me into this situation in the first place." I groaned, feeling my wounds stitch together uncomfortably.

Jace shook his head incredulously. "You can't believe that I wanted this to happen." I shrugged, wincing. "Is that what you think about me? Clary, I _care_ about you!"

"Is that what you think 'care' means?" I asked, shocked. "When you force yourself onto the girl you, apparently, _care_ about. Really?"

Jace looked down, golden eyes tinged with guilt. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"For what?" I said sarcastically, mimicking what Valentine did to me.

"Don't punish me for your father's actions!" Jace hissed in frustration.

I laughed emotionlessly. "My father did that for your benefit, not his."

"How? How was it for me?" Jace inquired, annoyed.

"My parents are old-fashioned, Jace." I growled. "Don't you get it? Valentine wanted to show you how obedient I could be with a little…persuasion. He was showing you how to punish me when we're _married_." I spat the cursed word. Ew.

Jace frowned. "He wouldn't do that. He's your father."

"Father, mentor, punisher, trainer, torturer…same thing." I sighed. "And he's going to teach you everything. How to punish me, how to control me, how to organize me." I spread my arms wide, half-smiling, half-contorting in pain. "Welcome to Keeping-Clary-Under-Control 101!"

I walked down the hallway, ignoring Jace's persistent stalking. "Even if that is true, I wouldn't punish you or hurt you, Clary."

"You already have." I snapped. "You forced me to kiss you! Lessons have already begun, haven't they? Admit it Jace—you took advice from my father, didn't you?"

Jace paled. "I—I asked him how to win you over." He gulped. "Valentine told me—he told me to force you…he said it was the only way…he said you would love me and marry me. I swear Clary."

I laughed. "That's my father for you." I reached my bedroom. "Goodbye, Jace." I twisted the bronze doorknob and pushed. Creaking open, the door revealed my destroyed and blood-stained bedroom. I walked in and turned quickly to stop Jace from following. "_Goodbye_, Jace." I growled, blocking the door.

"Let me in." Jace groaned.

"So you can listen to Valentines advice and kiss me again? No thank you." I went to slam it, but his hand pushed it open. "Jace, I'm serious. Get out!" He didn't listen, instead, he rudely and arrogantly shoved through, strolling merrily into my messy bedroom and smirking. God, I hated him. "You are so ridiculous! Just get out of _my_ bedroom!"

Jace grinned mockingly, raking a tanned hand through his dishevelled golden curls. "You know what, I don't think I will." He raised his eyebrows at the flung-about clothes and dried blood. "Is that my blood?"

"Yes. It is." I growled. "It's quite a beautiful canvas really, especially when I paint with your blood. Now, if you do not remove your over-sized, golden hide from my bedroom, I will grab my seraph blade and paintbrush and continue where I left off." I attempted to sound menacing—unfortunately, I sounded more seductive and husky than an evil genius. Crap!

"That sounds hot." Jace mused aloud, causing my cheeks to flame in embarrassment.

I gritted my teeth. "That wasn't meant to be hot! That was meant to threatening. Now move!" I pointed to the door. "I won't hesitate in cutting off your mop of yellow curls and using them as pillow-stuffing!" Nice! Jace laughed. "If you don't move right now, you will end up as a women—I will use my own blade and then stuff them in an envelope and personally send them in the post."

Jace covered himself between the legs, still chuckling. "That's a major turn off, you know. Can I at least tell you when our wedding will be?"

"When I'm dead?" I asked hopefully.

"No. Its next week."

Did he just say that? "Pardon?" I whispered.

"It's next Sunday." But its Sunday today, which means a week! One bloody week until I get married! Jace smiled. "My parents and yours are organizing the whole thing—except the…erm…dress and suit. You get to pick what dress to wear. Oh, and I get to pick the honeymoon destination."

"Can't I just wear jeans?" I murmured, dazed and confused.

Jace frowned. "No. Put some effort into this wedding, Clary."

"How can I when it's arranged?"

Jace groaned, shaking his head. "Please. Just make me happy."

"Do you _want_ this wedding?" I asked, shocked.

Turning bright shade of crimson, Jace set his jaw, refusing to look at me. "So what if I do?"

"I need to know if you feel the same way I do."

"And how do you feel?" he inquired.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I don't want it. By the angel, I'm only sixteen."

"Shadowhunters marry at a young age, Clary."

"Yeah, but not to people they don't love!" I shouted.

Jace sighed. "I know you don't love me! But I love you!"

I frowned, confused. How could he love me? After all the years of tormenting, cursing and laughing at me, how could he? Obviously he didn't—or he deluded himself into thinking that. "You don't love me, Jace."

"Don't tell me what I feel! I love you! I care for you! The only way I can show you is the wedding! That's why I goddam offered!" Jace shouted, exasperated. He turned and stalked from my bedroom—finally.


	9. Chapter 9

Morgenstern and Herondale

After Jace left dramatically, I collapsed exhaustedly onto my tangled bed, thinking over everything. Apparently, Jace liked me—I hate saying 'love', because honestly, I don't like him—and he refused to give up trying to make me like him back. My mind automatically pictured him kissing and seducing other tarty-looking women, then ditching them like they're not for use anymore. It wasn't love—I squirmed at the word—it couldn't be love. It had only been yesterday that Valentine announced the haunting news of my engagement! I had to marry him next Sunday, for Christ's sake!

Groaning, I slowly and mechanically sauntered to my wardrobe, snatching a deep blue shirt and disposing of my destroyed one. My back was still fairly painful and bruised. Everyone was probably still at breakfast, chatting and socialising like nothing ever happened. But my whipped back was a reminder for me.

I stiffly walked through the quiet, empty hallways, returning to the dining room. Everyone was sat back in the exact same places, Valentine, Jocelyn and Jace talking enthusiastically and Jonathan sulking. They looked up at me as I shuffled painfully towards my brother, my back completely straight. I sunk beside Jonathan, looking at the tablecloth. I probably looked terrible; I could still feel the dried tears streaks on my cheeks and my hair was stupidly messy.

Everyone began talking again, except Jonathan, who quickly grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed lovingly. I smiled reassuringly at him and began thinking, the fake grin falling off my face. I couldn't fight anymore. I was going to marry Jace whether I like it or not. This was it. Valentine and Jace have won; they've won. What was the point in fighting anymore? I would just get whipped.

I would go through with the wedding. I will keep my mouth shut on that day. But when the wedding night arrives and the honeymoon starts—I will not give in to Jace. I'll give him the wedding, but I will live like I normally do after that. It was simple.

Jocelyn snapped me from my thoughts then. "Huh?" I asked breathlessly.

"You and me will be shopping for wedding dresses!" Jocelyn clapped excitedly. I raised my delicate eyebrows incredulously.

"When?" I squeaked, wincing.

Jocelyn beamed happily. "Tomorrow! We will be portaling to a shadowhunter wedding shop in England."

"They have shadowhunter wedding shops in England?" I asked glumly, not really thinking about that. I was thinking about the horrible dress I had to wear. I hardly ever wore dresses—except from the horrid death dress mum forces me to wear on occasions.

"Of course they do, silly. Don't worry, I'll find you the perfect one. You're going to look even more beautiful, Clary." Jocelyn gushed. I tried my best to ignore Jace's piercing golden eyes. The words 'I love you' ringed through my head. Shaking them out, I tightened my grip on Jonathan's hand.

"Okay." I'm sure everyone almost choked on their drinks and food. They were surprised that I was cooperating. Shrugging, I smirked.

Valentine poured himself a glass of scarlet wine. Alcoholic. "So," he suddenly smiled, putting me on the edge. I knew he knew about my plan. How the hell did he goddam know?! "If you're finally happy with the wedding proceedings then, Clary, you wouldn't mind us forwarding the event." Blood and warmth drained from my cheeks, leaving me feeling horrendously empty and cold.

"What?" I whispered weakly.

Valentine grinned. He knew that I would pretend to be nice on the wedding day and then ignore Jace afterwards. How? Psychic. He's got to be psychic. He wanted my suffering to start early. "How about Wednesday? Three days hence."

"Sounds good," Jocelyn agreed, turning to Jace.

Jace nodded. "Brilliant. Sounds like a plan." He turned to me and gave a charming smile. "But I will have to make changes to the honeymoon plans." My hand crystallised in Jonathans. He began running his calloused thumb across my knuckles, soothing me. Great. Now Jace thinks he's going to be getting a hot, steamy wedding night from me. He's going to get a shock.

I cleared my throat, gaining Jace's flickering golden gaze. "Where are we going then?"

"It's a surprise." Jace smiled.

"Just tell me, Jace." I sighed.

He laughed, giving in. Well, that didn't take long. "We will be portaling to a small village in Jamaica."

"Jamaica?!" I gasped.

"Sound good?" he inquired curiously, lips tugging up.

I nodded, shocked. "How—how can we even afford any of this? I have no money."

Valentine coughed. "Actually, you do. Me and your mother have a lot of money, therefore Clary, as a wedding gift, we are giving you starting money. Twenty thousand pounds to be exact. Jace's parents are doing the same for him."

"Forty thousand pounds _between_ us?!" I half-shouted, heart thumping. "But, how much is the wedding?"

"We're paying for that too, so are Stephen and Celine." Jocelyn answered simply.

I squeezed my tired eyes shut. "Where are we getting…married?"

Jace smiled—why wouldn't he stop smiling? "There's a church in Idris. I'm sure you prefer traditional?" I don't prefer anything! I wanted to shout, but decided to be nice and calm. I shrugged, not wanting to nod and seem over-enthusiastic. Jace sighed, "Clary, you have to be honest with me."

I severely wanted to tell him that nothing would change, but one sharp black glare from my father put me in my place. "Sure, traditional is good. Who's attending then? It's not like I have friends."

Jace shrugged. "A few of my friends, a few of your parents. Not a lot to be honest." Thank god. At least I wouldn't be publicly humiliated in front of thousands. "But, due to your gifts and mine, some of the Clave may attend." Oh yes. I forgot about our gifts and angel blood.

"Why?" I asked, pretending to be curious, when really I was dreading the dress and the flowers and the wedding and even the goddamned wedding night!

Valentine interrupted. "When you have children—" I winced and squeezed my eyes. Jonathan cracked a mocking smile. "Your blood will run in the child's veins. Your children will be very powerful—and the Clave are scared of power." I nodded in understanding and continued listening through the torturous conversation.


	10. Chapter 10

Morgenstern and Herondale

Time flew by and suddenly it was midday. The Morgenstern Manor was extremely quiet; Jace was having his suit fitted somewhere, Jonathan was forced to accompany him, Jocelyn was busy planning the wedding and Valentine was cooped up in his cluttered, cramped study. I was completely bored and dreamy. I began wondering the hallways, thinking about my father. He wasn't being particularly nice lately—whipping me and forwarding the wedding. I needed to speak to him about his behaviour. Valentine had been a devoted father, training me and teaching me. What's changed?

Half-running to his office, I knocked once, listening intently for a command. Obviously, Valentine hadn't expected anyone, because he abruptly yanked open the door, frowning. I smiled and he sighed, opening the door for me to enter. Walking in, I plonked myself heavily on the swivel chair, opposite the paper-strewn desk, watching my father sit down. There was an open bottle of wine and a half-empty glass on the surface, buried amongst the crumpled papers. Valentine swivelled around and pulled open the see-through cabinet, producing another glass which he smacked down in front of me. Slowly, he poured me a glass, smirking.

"You look as if you've never seen alcohol before." He grinned, downing his drink in an instant. Raising an eyebrow, I raised the drink to my lips, sipping it suspiciously. It was strangely crisp and refreshing, but had a bitter taste to it. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. "Is it to your taste?" I nodded, gulping some more. "Then, maybe you should drink wine from now on. Instead of children's drinks."

"Alcohol doesn't make people adults." I replied sternly. "In fact, when people get drunk, they have the mental abilities and actions of a child."

My father shrugged. "I don't really get drunk."

I laughed. "Oh come on. There's got to be one time!"

"Yes." Valentine winced, shaking his head in exasperation. "I have been drunk once." I raised the glass to my lips again—then noticed I had drunk it all. Idiot. Father noticed and smiled mockingly. "I suppose you want another?" I flushed red, embarrassed as he poured me another. I sipped it, the cool liquid burning my throat. "Why are you here, Clarissa?"

The alcohol was bubbling in my stomach, a warm pleasant hotness encouraging me. "I wanted to talk to you."

"I suppose it's about the wedding." He sighed.

"No," I blurted out. "It's not actually. I want to know why you're acting weird." I didn't mean to say that—it just slipped. Maybe the alcohol was getting to my head. Before I knew it, the second glass was gone and I had guzzled my third. This marriage was seriously stressing me out—I just needed to relax and calm down. Valentine looked cautious when I asked for my fourth.

"You have a very low tolerance for alcohol, Clary. You've had three glasses and you're already drunk. Enough." I groaned and snatched the bottle, causing Valentine's eyes to widen. I poured myself a glass, overfilling it and spilling wine onto the desk. I downed it completely. My father just sighed. "I guess this is your hen night then," he mused, cocking a fair eyebrow at my drunken behaviour. I felt ridiculously light and free.

"Can I take this bottle please?" I slurred slightly.

Valentine scoffed and rubbed his aching temples, looking at the papers. "Just go and leave me to work. Take the bottle."

I skipped merrily from the office, staggering around in the hallway and slurping from the bottle. What the hell was I doing? Getting drunk and giggling in a corridor. Thank god Jocelyn wasn't in. I needed to get drunk. It felt good to finally let go of the wedding problems.

Slumping onto the cold floor, I leaned against the wall, gulping down the wonderful crisp drink. Hmm…the peacefulness suddenly faded as I heard a concerned voice calling me. Was I dreaming?

No. I wasn't. Jace was kneeled before me, face utterly shocked. I laughed girlishly, finishing off the bottle and throwing it down the hallway. It shattered, crystallised fragments spilling everywhere. Jace's golden eyes widened as he grasped my shoulders and hauled me up. Giggling, I staggered around, Jace's hand holding me up.

"What the hell are you doing, Clary?" he scolded, grabbing my arm and leading me away. "Why do you do this to yourself? Honestly," Jace tutted in disapproval. "Let's get you to your bed."

"Ex_cuse _me?!" I shouted.

Jace sighed, pulling me along. "That's not what I meant—"

"How _dare_ you! I am nooot one of those s-s-slutty easy girls! J-just because you're a women-using idiot!" I slurred and snapped, feeling dizzy. "You—you can't just take me to bed! You are reaaally hot but you are an arrogant, rude asshat."

Jace chuckled, striding and tightening his grip on my pale arm. We reached my bedroom quickly and he dragged me in, dumping me onto my bed. Shutting the door, Jace groaned and raked his fingers through his golden hair. I was sat cross-legged, giggling and playing with my knotted hair. "I'm not ready to go to bed!" I moaned, jumping up and heading for the door. He stopped me and pushed me backwards, so I landed sprawled across the bed, back flat. "I don't want to go to bed!"

Jace sighed and grabbed the desk chair in my bedroom, pulling it next to my bed. He sat down and watched me laugh and roll around. "You're drunk, Clary."

"Yes, Jace. I noticed." I giggled. "You shouldn't be here, Jacey. This is my hen night."

Jace shook his head, exhausted and annoyed. "Why are you doing this wedding, Clary?"

"Because my daddy will hurt me again if I don't." I pouted, my mood turning sour.

"Clary, if you marry me, you'll be away from this place. You will be safe with me." Jace almost pleaded.

I groaned. "But I don't want to wear a dress! Can't I go in my birthday suit or something?!" I laughed again and Jace huffed.

"I wish." He murmured. "Go to sleep, Clary."


	11. Chapter 11

Morgenstern and Herondale

I was awoken abruptly by a horrendous throbbing attacking my skull. It was a torturous painful heartbeat echoing through my screaming head. Memories spilled through me—Valentines office, the whole bottle of wine, Jace in the hallway. Crap! I said Jace was hot!

Groaning, I rolled over…and immediately dashed into a sitting position, accidentally hitting my switched off bedside lamp and sending it smashing onto the floor. Jace was asleep, slumped beside my bed—he stirred and woke up, golden eyes widening. He looked at the broken lamp and sighed. "Did I scare you?" Jace asked, his normally amused, mocking expression wiped from his face. He looked glum and mildly annoyed.

I shook my head. "What the heck are you doing here?"

Jace smiled weakly. "Looking after my fiancé, is that a crime?" I collapsed exhaustedly onto my bed, snagging the covers and bundling myself up. "You must have the worst hangover ever. Here." He handed me an iced glass of water and two white tablets. Gulping them instantly, I winced and buried my guilty face into my pillow, ashamed. "So…glad you got drunk?" he snarled viciously.

"I'm sorry." I muttered, eyes closing.

"No!" Jace snapped, prodding me awake again. "No sleeping! You are the most stupid girl I have ever known! You could have done something dangerous if I wasn't there! What were you thinking, Clary?!" Moaning into my pillow, I gently shrugged my shoulders. "Don't shrug at me! Tell me what possessed you to drink yourself to idiocy!"

"Idiocy's a funny word." I murmured.

Jace clenched his fists. "Oh. Clary. You are pushing your luck." He growled, teeth gritting. "If it wasn't for your hangover, I would have put you over my goddam knee!"

"And what? Spanked me. Funny." I snorted and then sighed.

Jace crossed his freshly rune-swirled arms. "Don't tempt me."

"I would scream before you put me over your knee." I threatened, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

Jace laughed emotionlessly. "I would gag you before you screamed."

"I would have bit you before you gagged me!" I warned.

"Bit me?" he mused, chuckling. "Where?"

I hissed, "On your face."

He boomed a startling laugh, shaking his head. He leaned forward and purred in my ear, "I might like that too much."

I made a disgusted sound. "You are so perverted."

"You're my fiancé. Get used to it." He huffed and stretched his arm, smoothing a matted red lock of hair from my face.

"What are you doing?" I suspiciously asked, eyebrows raised. Jace continued to smooth my hair, a look of peace on his face. It was creeping me out. "Are you some sort of hair molester?"

Jace shook his head, a smile tugging. "Just—please let me. I've wanted to do this…since I met you." He moved his hand to my startled face, smoothing over my blushing cheeks. How embarrassing!

"Jace, I'm not sure—"

"Clary. I know. I know you don't feel what I feel. How about we be friends? Let's start with just friends. And then, if you change your mind, we can see what happens…" Jace released his hand and smiled kindly. His perverted side returned quickly though. "But I expect a hot wedding night."

"In your sick, disgusting dreams." I retaliated, smirking.

Jace pouted. "Oh come on. Just a nice steamy night between husband and wife, by the sea. You in a bikini. Hmm…"

"You are sooo wrong! Ugh. You can fulfil your oh-so-desperate needs with someone else."

Jace just frowned. Wow—no sarcastic comeback. "You really think I'm a women-user, don't you?" I just shrugged, feeling guilty. "Trust me. I'm not. I used to be, but I'm not anymore. I found someone special."

"I guess that's…"

"You. Yes." He smiled. Sighing, I gratefully thanked my headache for magically disappearing. Those tablets are good. Yawning, I stretched and sat up, fumbling around for the time. "It's eight in the morning, Clary."

"In the morning?! I've slept over nineteen hours?!" I exclaimed and leaped from the bed, dizziness overbearing me. Jace steadied me and I sprinted into my bathroom. Jace followed and watched, amused as I scrubbed my teeth hastily, removing the horrid taste of wine. I yanked a brush through my tangled curls and quickly applied some mascara.

"You don't need makeup." Jace whispered. I heard him.

I scoffed and rubbed cream into my cheeks. After approving of my appearance, I rushed back into my room and searched for something to wear. I had to go dress shopping with Jocelyn, so I needed something easy to wear.

"Jace, turn around." I commanded, reaching for my jeans and a white top.

"But—" he argued.

"Turn around." I growled. He raised his hands in surrender and whirled, facing the door. Quickly, I changed and—suddenly, I noticed my bedroom. It was clean! The last time I saw it, it was completely destroyed, blood splattered on the floor and clothes thrown around. "I'm dressed."

Jace turned and saw my bewildered expression. "I did a clean-up. It was a mess."

"But—but I had underwear on my floor!" I shouted, blushing.

"I know. I put them in the wash basket."

I grumbled. "You are so annoying."

"I know." He said again, grinning. "It's a talent."

I still couldn't imagine Jace picking up my clothing—my underwear! "You touched my pants!" I flushed deep with embarrassment.

"So? I didn't touch them for long." He turned and walked towards the door. "Oh, and just so you know, your mother and you are going wedding shopping in about five minutes." I turned around and searched for my stele and seraph blade. "Clary," Jace whispered. I whirled around. "Your lacy red pants were the best." I grabbed my knife and threw it at him. It buried deep into the wall above his curly soft blond hair, inches from his flirtatious face. "I'm telling the truth." He winked and ran out.

Groaning, I blushed even brighter, feeling faintly sick. That annoying, perverted blond. How would I get him back?


	12. Chapter 12

Morgenstern and Herondale

After portaling to an English wedding shop, I was forced into every dress possible. Light gold, dark gold, yellow-gold, brown-gold…gold, gold, gold. There were lacy ones, silky ones, long ones, short ones, slitted ones, patterned ones…too many to name. Two hours went by, and I was completely exhausted. My mother was frantically rushing around the store, unhooking dresses and shoving them at me. That's when I noticed.

She had thrown every dress on me, except one. Whilst she was sprinting around, I slowly shuffled towards the clothes rack, unhooking the dress from it. Why wouldn't she like this? It was a beautiful light-gold colour; it looked tight and ducked into the waist, then it billowed out, like an amber waterfall. The sleeves were a fine white lace. The thin soft white material wrapped around the dress, stark white against warm gold. It looked gorgeous.

Jocelyn finally noticed me, frowning and strolling over. "I've got some dresses for you, Clary."

"I like this one." I whispered, holding it up and examining it. "It's…beautiful." It was ridiculously stunning. Why didn't my mother like it? "Don't you like it?"

Jocelyn smiled. "It is very lovely, Clary. It's just very old-fashioned."

"But, it's a traditional wedding."

She grinned. "Go on. Go and try it on."

Squealing excitedly, I slammed the changing room door and quickly stripped from my clothes. I eased the soft dress onto my tired body, adjusting all the thin lacy white straps. Looking into the mirror, I gasped. Surprisingly, I looked stunning. I felt stunning too.

The dress hugged my upper half, the white making my skin look cream and the gold brightening my hair. It spilled from my hips, overlapping my feet and flowing onto the floor. The white sleeves reached the crease of my arm.

Wow.

I unlocked the door, anticipation filling me. Jocelyn saw me and nearly melted on the spot. She rushed inside and giggled and gushed proudly.

"You are so beautiful! This is your dress! Oh my goodness! And it's the exact shade of Jace's golden hair! You two will be perfect!" I fake smiled when I heard Jace's name. "Let's go and buy it! Quick!" After dressing again, my mother paid and bought the wedding dress, beaming proudly. We portaled back swiftly and it was one o'clock.

I was still planning on how to get Jace back. Maybe I could use my rune abilities to aid the payback situation. How about I change the colour of his clothes to pink? Oh yeah, that sounds great. The rune formed before my bottle-green eyes as I quietly creaked open his door. Thankfully, Jace wasn't in. I tiptoed to his wardrobe and chest of drawers, silently sketching the rune above it. It flashed white and dissolved into the wood. Curious, I yanked open the drawer—and quickly shut it. Everything was pink! Giggling, I rushed from his bedroom, holding back my laughter.

Unfortunately, I bumped into him as I neared my bedroom. I chewed my lip, muffling my laughter, but Jace noticed. Stopping, he raised an eyebrow. "Something funny?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Okay then," he didn't looked convinced. "I'm going to get changed. I think Jonathan was looking for you."

I nodded and nearly cracked as I sprinted away from the questioning blond boy, running to my brother's room. Knocking once, I immediately barged in and slammed the door, startling Jonathan, who was slumped on his bed reading. I giggled stupidly and his obsidian eyes widened. "You have no idea what I've just done!"

Jonathan made a face of disgust. "I'd rather not know about yours and Jace's private life."

"You're disgusting!" I launched myself onto his bed, pushing him.

He grinned. "Okay then, what have you done?"

I gasped excitedly. "I made a rune to change everything to pink."

"And?"

"And, Jonathan, I changed all of Jace's clothes to pink." Jonathan burst into laughter, dropping his book and chuckling crazily. I laughed along with him. "He's just gone to get changed! I need to hide in here!" Suddenly, we heard angry thumps of footsteps down the hallway. I springed off the bed, searching for a place to hide. Running into the bathroom, I quietly closed the door and pressed my ear to it, listening intently.

The bedroom door opened and I heard angry erratic breathing. "Where is she?!" Jace growled.

"Who?" Jonathan answered, probably planting a mocking smirk on his face.

"I know she's here, Morgenstern." I heard footsteps pacing the room, searching. They came towards the bathroom. Uh oh. "Clary," he called out. "I know you're there. Why don't you make this easier for yourself and come out?"

Biting back my laughter, I grabbed the doorknob and turned it ridiculously slowly, the suspense killing me. Finally, Jace yanked it open and narrowed his golden eyes at me. He snatched my pale upper arm and pulled me effortlessly from the bathroom. I looked at Jonathan, who was chuckling at me. Waving him goodbye, I attempted to keep up with Jace's long-legged strides, ignoring the sudden urge to burst into hysterics. We reached his bedroom and he shoved me inside, closing and locking the door. "Change my clothes back. Now."

"You know what, I don't think I will." I sighed, sitting on his bed and relaxing. Jace clenched his fists, making them whiten.

Jace growled and stalked towards me. "Change them back."

"No." I laughed girlishly. "I'm not going to do it."

Advancing on me, I lunged off the bed, backing away from him nervously. "Don't make me put you over my knee, Clary."

"You wouldn't—" But he immediately pounced, sending me jumping across his bed to get away. Before I could get off the furniture, he grabbed my legs and yanked me back violently. I kicked at him and tried to crawl across the tangled mattress but he snatched me by my hips and pulled me to him. Jace wrapped one arm around my tummy and one across my collarbone and hauled me to his chest. We were sat on his bed and he was trying to get me to change it back. That's not going to happen.

"Change it back! Now!" he whispered in my ear.


	13. Chapter 13

Morgenstern and Herondale

"Jace Herondale, get off me now!" I commanded sternly, thrashing around in his muscular arms. Jace grinned lazily and tightened his already-constricting hold.

"I said I was going to put you over my knee. I wasn't lying, Clary—I'm a man of my word." He attempted to turn me onto my belly, but I violently wriggled like a fish out of water.

I growled, "Don't you even think about it you disturbing, psychotic pervert!"

"Too late, my feisty little wife." Jace purred. "I've been thinking about it for days." Huffing, I elbowed him hard in the ribs, causing him to swear and snatch my waving arms, pinning my front to his chest. I felt extremely uncomfortable pressed against him, blushing furiously. "So…when are you going to change my clothes back? I can sit here with you all night—but I warn you, I might get a little hot and bothered." He winked suggestively. I blanched and nearly died of embarrassment. He pressed into me a little more and I sighed.

"Okay. I'll change them back." Jace released me and stood up, guarding the door. Walking, annoyed and angry, towards the wardrobe and chest of drawers, I drew a reverse effect for the rune, quickly turning to him. "Would you like a specific colour? Red or maybe—"

"Just change it back." Jace calmly spoke, voice quite chilling.

I shrugged. "Done." I opened the wardrobe smugly—and gasped. They were still pink. Frowning, I turned to Jace and indicated. "One moment please, we're having some technical difficulties." I checked the rune; it hadn't dissolved or faded, leaving it a dark smudge on the wood. Gulping, I sketched it again and again, groaning when it refused to work. What had I done differently? I crossed my arms and fingered my chin in thought, chewing my lip. Turning to Jace, who had a face like thunder, I gave a worried smile, whilst raking my hands crazily through my curls. "Nobody panic." I reassured myself and him. Squeezing my eyes shut, I smacked my stele against my forehead, swearing repeatedly and searching for an idea. None sprung to mind.

Pocketing my stele, I nervously turned to Jace, biting my lips. "Uh, Jace, we have a bit of a problem." He just narrowed his eyes darkly. "It's not a serious problem though!" I quickly corrected. I squeaked the next sentence, "You just need to go out and buy some dye—or, to save all the hassle, just get some new clothes."

"What?" he hissed. Even though the door was locked, he took out his stele and traced a locking rune. "This isn't a joke anymore. I told you what I would do if you don't change them!"

"Pleeeease don't!" I begged, suddenly very scared. "Not even my mother spanked me for being naughty!"

"I'm not your mother." Jace darkly said and stalked towards me. I threw myself across the bedroom, leaping over the bed and smacking into the wall. Literally—I could run, but I couldn't hide. Jace followed and I was immediately pinned onto the wall. "Now, Clary. Where would you be more comfortable?"

"In my grave." I muttered sarcastically.

Jace frowned. "Excuse me?"

I shook my head incredulously. "You won't do this. I know you won't."

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough about you to know that you won't do it. You're just threatening me." I whispered.

Jace just smiled and shrugged. "I don't know, Clary. I know I couldn't do that do you normally—but you've just turned my clothes pink, you've rejected me thousands of times, you ignore me, you insult me and you have punched me billions of times. What have I done, huh? I've offered to marry you, I've sat by your bed when you were ill, I've looked after you while you were drunk, I've tried to plan out the perfect wedding for you and most importantly…I love you." Tears pricked my eyes. I really have hurt him, haven't I? I really am like Valentine. My eyes began welling and tears spilled down my face. Like father, like daughter. Jace looked completely taken back and shocked. "No, no Clary, no, don't cry." He raised his hand and his thumb brushed away the hot tears. "Shh. Please, stop crying. I'm sorry."

"No, Jace," I sniffed, looking down guiltily. "I'm sorry. I should've given you a chance. I'm just like Valentine. I'm just like him." My hands cupped my face and I cried into them, sinking onto my knees. "I'm just like him. How can I be like him?"

I heard Jace sink before me and pry my hands off my face, golden eyes hurt. "No. Clary, you're nothing like him, okay? Listen to me. I know you don't love me. I know. And I know I've been forcing you into uncomfortable situations that you don't like. I'm so sorry for that." The tears restarted, pouring down my flushed cheeks. "No, please, baby, don't cry." I was so weak and depressed, I didn't even tell him off for calling me 'baby'. "No more tears," he wiped away the salty water from my cheeks, looking pale.

"I'm scared, Jace." I whispered through the wet bubbly tears. "I'm scared. I don't want to be like Valentine." Deep down, I knew I was. I was exactly like my father. "I'm scared that I'll be like him forever." Oh god. I leaned downwards, my back arching as I cried into my legs. I couldn't stop crying. What was wrong with me? I felt Jace's hand smoothing my back.

"Stop crying. Please. Clary, baby." That goddamned nickname wasn't helping. Sniffling, I scrubbed my raw red-rimmed eyes and sat up, breathing deeply and not meeting Jace's persistent golden eyes. "Clary, you're nothing like him. Never, ever think that." He grabbed my hands and pulled me upwards. "Now, you're going to follow me and I'm going to show you where we will be staying on our honeymoon, okay?" I nodded, dreamy and glassy-eyed. "I'm going to forget about the clothes. I will just buy some more anyway." I cracked a smile then.


	14. Chapter 14

Morgenstern and Herondale

After I had scrubbed my red-rimmed eyes, Jace led me to Valentines office. I was still shell-shocked at my hysterical outburst and could still feel dried tears streaked across my freckled cheeks. Why had I acted so ridiculously weak in front of Jace? He was arrogant, rude and immature, and I embarrassed myself by crying before him. What was wrong with me?

Jace knocked the study door, face still pale from my performance. It wasn't a performance though—god, I wished it was. I wasn't pretending and scoring points here, I was exhausted, physically and mentally. This wedding was an emotional, horrid thing.

Valentine answered the door, frowning at my tear-streaked face. He probably hasn't seen me since I got drunk, which is kind of awkward. "Can I help you?"

"I wanted to show Clary the honeymoon destination." Jace spoke clearly.

Valentine stared incredulously. "I thought this was a surprise, Jace."

Jace turned to me, contemplating something. "Do you want to see them? Or wait for the real thing?"

"She'll wait for the real thing, Jace." Valentine interrupted, answering for me. "Now, if you don't mind, I have some business to sort out."

And just like that, the door slammed in our faces. I turned slowly and began shuffling down the hallway dreamily, ignoring Jace's calls. I heard his increasing footsteps and then his warmth beside me. I knew what I desperately needed—a large drink of wine, or maybe the whole bottle. I didn't care about the hangover. It was Tuesday tomorrow anyway, so who cares? The wedding was the next day!

I reached the kitchen. Nobody was here, except from Jace, who looked confused. Grinning, I walked towards the wooden bottle rack and slid out a random wine. It was red again, luckily. "Clary…" Jace warned stepping towards me—but it was too late. With my bare hands, I had yanked out the stuffed cork and began guzzling down the vinegar-smelling liquid. Giddiness overwhelmed me again, bubbling in my stomach. The bottle was wrenched from my hand before I could drink the last remaining drops. Angry golden eyes burned into me.

"What the hell is your problem, Clary?!" Jace shouted. I giggled girlishly, loving the light, weightless feeling.

"Hmm…Jacey." I erupted in a fit of laughter.

"Don't 'Jacey' me, why are you doing this to yourself?" I stumbled forwards into his chest and wrapped my arms around him. "Clary, answer me!" I giggled again. "That's it." He snatched my arm and dragged me carelessly into his bedroom.

Suddenly, there was freezing cold water soaking me, drenching my clothes and darkening my hair. I screeched and slipped, crashing into the bottom of a bathtub. I was in Jace's shower, and he was spraying me with water. "No, no, no, no, no, no. Stop!" I gurgled, crawling into a praying position and hiding my face.

**Hello everyone. It's the writer here. I am sorry that this chapter was so short. I have just gone back to school today and have needed to do a lot of studying for my GCSE'S. Sorry again everybody and thanks for the positive comments! ~G**


	15. Chapter 15

Morgenstern and Herondale

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" I screeched, goose bumps forming where the freezing cold water streams hit me. I was absolutely drenched and a slight fuzzy feeling swarmed inside my skull, pummelling my brain. Ow. "Stop! Jace! No! No more!" I cried, tightening into a ball. Immediately, the water stopped. The air stuck to my pale wet skin, making me even colder. Unfortunately, the drunk me had been washed away. Uh oh.

"Stand up!" Jace snapped loudly. "Now!" And for once, I didn't fight him. Shaking, I clamped my wrinkled wet hands on the bathtub and hoisted myself up, wincing as the water began splattering from my clothes. My knotted hair was clumped around my face in wet locks. "Get out of the tub." I obeyed again, draping my frail legs over the side and standing unsteadily on the water-splodged tiles. Jace snatched a fluffy white towel from the rail and slowly draped it around my shoulders, his hands brushing the exposed frozen skin there. I kept my ashamed eyes focused on the floor. "Follow me. Now."

Jace walked into his bedroom and I reluctantly followed. I was thinking about the wedding. It wasn't tomorrow, but the next day! I groaned internally, screaming hysterically on the inside. "Sit down. Now." He ordered.

Sinking quickly onto his bed, I mumbled quietly, "Please would be nice instead of 'now'."

Jace's jaw clenched. "Do not push me, Clary." He walked towards the bedside table and yanked open the drawer. He produced a long shirt, which, surprisingly, wasn't pink. "Yeah," Jace growled. "Looks like the rune wore off after all." He shoved the shirt at me. "Get changed."

I frowned. "But, it's too short! It only reaches my mid-thigh!"

"I don't care. Put it on."

"It's too short!" I argued. "I'm not wearing this with you here!" The throbbing in my head had increased.

Jace huffed loudly. He yanked open the drawer again and chucked me a pair of his boxers. I dodged them, refusing to touch the material. "There. Put them on too."

"I am not wearing your boxers!" I refused, crossing my arms and bundling the shirt up.

"They're clean." Jace sighed.

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't care. I am not wearing your boxers!"

"Put. Them. On. Now." He hissed.

"No." I snarled.

Jace stalked towards me. "Don't make me get you dressed myself, Clary. You know I would."

I knew he would do it, so I swore and sprinted into the bathroom, slamming the door to annoy him. I stripped from my drenched clothes and regrettably put on the white shirt. Groaning, I slid up the boxers, making sure to leave my underwear on. The shorts were a light grey. Quickly, I fished out my hairband from my trouser pocket and wrapped my dark wet hair into a messy ponytail. Breathing deeply, I opened the door and stormed into the room, leaping onto the bed and crossing my arms. I saw Jace's golden eyes bulge and I flushed with extreme embarrassment.

"What you looking at, pervert?" I hissed.

Jace shook his head incredulously. "I'm just admiring my wife."

I winced. "I'm not your wife!"

"No. Not yet. You will be in two days, baby."

"Don't call me baby, either." I huffed, scrunching up my face.

"No can do, baby." Jace grinned. "You need to go to bed." He abruptly pulled back the covers and made me stand up. "Go on. Get in."

I raised my eyebrows. "Where will you sleep?"

"Here. With you."

"That's a joke, right?" I asked.

Jace laughed. "Yeah, baby. It's a joke. I told you; I wouldn't force you into an uncomfortable situation." He turned serious. "Now, get in."

I re-crossed my arms again, stubborn. "I am not sleeping in your bed." Jace shrugged—then began undressing. I slapped my hands across my eyes, blinding myself. "What are you doing?!" I heard his belt smack onto the floor. I knew he was completely undressed—except, hopefully, his boxers. Hot arms burned my skin as they wrapped around my waist. "Jace. No. Don't." And suddenly, I was lying in his bed with the covers drawn around me and Jace's arms pulling my back to his chest. As far as uncomfortable situations went—this was the most uncomfortable. Groaning, I dropped my hands.

As much as I hated to admit it, I began dropping off. The throbbing in my head pounded me until I was in a dreamless sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

Morgenstern and Herondale 

The first thing I thought when I woke up was; OH MY GOD! THE WEDDING IS TOMORROW! After groaning, swearing and nearly bursting into hysterical tears, I noticed the second thing; where the hell was I? This certainly wasn't my bedroom—everything was white, featureless and dull, and only a few seraph blades were scattered on the bedside table, illuminating the room. Frowning, I suddenly noticed the third thing; I was paralyzed. I couldn't move. Wriggling around, I felt strong constraints tighten onto me, making me gasp. Thank god. I wasn't paralyzed.

I couldn't remember a thing from last night—so I started panicking when I saw Jace snuggled into me, face nuzzling my neck. I did the natural response. I screamed a loud, piercing wail.

Jace stirred and ripped open his golden eyes, moaning in protest. "Shut up, Clary." He closed his eyes, clamped a hand on my mouth and pulled me back to his chest. Thrashing around, I noticed his tanned arms constricting around me again, pulling me even closer. He had removed his hand and wrapped that around my waist. This was awkward.

"Jace! Jace! Let go!" I whisper-shouted, poking him.

"No." He murmured, burying his peaceful-looking face into my knotted bright hair. Crap! Crap! Don't fall asleep again! Jace breathed into my hair, sighing happily.

"Jace! Get up!" I whispered again.

Jace groaned. "Just let me enjoy—this." I sighed and attempted to wiggle out again, moving against him. "Stop doing that, Clary." I poked his face and his eyes reluctantly opened. "What?"

"We didn't—do anything, did we?" I gulped, looking down at the white shirt and boxers.

Jace laughed emotionlessly. "You think I would take advantage of you? It's tempting, but no. I wouldn't."

I sighed aloud, blinking. "Thank god." Jace wrapped his muscular arms tighter around me and groaned into my hair. "Jaaaace," I warned. "You're lucky I haven't castrated you yet. Don't push it." Jace murmured something gibberish into my curly hair, his hands smoothing my skin. "Jace Herondale. Wake up!"

"Hmmm…I love you." Jace whispered, kissing my head. I blushed brightly and slithered around, escaping from his arms. Finally, I was stood on the floorboards, looking down at the snoring sleepy boy with disgust. My eyes flicked to the clock—9:48. Crap! I slept for ages! I needed to wake Jace up, I could tell he was going to be grumpy in the mornings.

After sprinting into the bathroom and filling up a glass of freezing cold water, I skipped merrily towards the bed and dumped the cold liquid onto his face. Jace spluttered and leaped upwards, stood on the bed. I laughed aloud, averting my watering eyes from his body. He was only wearing boxers—the pervert.

"What, by the angel, was that for?!" he shouted incredulously, wiping away his plastered wet curls.

"You wouldn't wake up." I shrugged to myself.

Jace swore and jumped off the bed. He stalked towards me and snatched both of my shoulders, shaking me. "I. Am. Going. To. Get. You. Back." He growled with each shake. Suddenly, his long fingers jabbed me in the ribs. Squealing, I giggled and backed away from him, nearly tripping over the bed. Jace took advantage of this and, with lightening quick movements, tackled me onto the mattress. His fingers dug into my ribs, irritating my sensitive sides.

"Please stop! Jace!" I giggled and screeched, thrashing around. Jace had me pinned hard into the bed and refused to stop tickling me. I groaned and Jace immediately stopped, grinning down at me.

"I love you." Jace said calmly to me, golden eyes moulding into green.

My lips parted and a gasp escaped. "I know." I said. "Just—just give me time."

Jace nodded and climbed off me, pulling me up with him. "I know." He smiled.


	17. Chapter 17

Morgenstern and Herondale

After scoffing down breakfast and sprinting into the training room, I focused on aiming my crystallised blade at the hand-painted target, only once succeeding in hitting the centre. Wiping my plastered orange curls off my forehead, I kept throwing, hitting and then celebrating every time. I aimed my knife, thinking of everything I wanted to stab…Valentine, Jocelyn and Jace mostly. Valentine wanted me to go, my mother would never stick up for me and Jace was just Jace. Of course I would give him a chance, but honestly, I was sincerely regretting it.

"Woah…someone's angry."

I screeched and spun around, dropping all the knives. Jonathan was standing, arms crossed and leaning on the decaying door. His white hair was dishevelled and black eyes shone darkly.

"Yeah," I squeaked weakly. "I guess I am." I turned and began picking up the knives. "Do you need something, Jonathan?"

I heard a rustle of clothing, so I quickly twirled around. Jonathan was standing there, grinning idiotically. "I just wanted to spend time with my baby sister before her wedding."

"One," I growled. "I am not a baby. Two, it isn't my 'wedding', more of a—funeral."

Jonathan laughed, hands raised in surrender. "Calm it down, Clare-bear. I was just warning you." He began turning and walking away, a smile obviously plastered onto his face.

"Warn me about what?" I asked nervously, frowning.

Jonathan spun around again, chuckling. "Father is educating Jace about—" he burst in laughter.

"Spit. It. Out." I snarled.

Jonathan composed himself. "Father is educating Jace about your—" he snickered. "About your wedding night."

I dropped all the knives again, gasping. "You're joking, right?" Jonathan shook his head, smiling mockingly. "He—Valentine—is educating Jace about tomorrow night? When you say wedding night, do you mean…?"

"Yes." Jonathan laughed. "I mean, Valentine is explaining to Jace about the hot steamy night you two should be sharing tomorrow."

I nearly fainted, my face completely draining of blood. "Well, that is NOT going to happen. No! No way! I mean—ew. Never."

"And, he sent me to get you." Jonathan mumbled.

"WHAT?!" I shouted, fisting my whitening hands into my outrageous curls. "UGHHHH!" I huffed angrily.

Jonathan laughed, holding out his arm. "Come on then, little sister. Let me escort you."

I was escorted by my taunting older brother and I unfortunately reached Valentines study in no time. My heart was hammering painfully inside my chest, echoing through my ears. Jonathan kissed my cheek and left me alone. The door towered over, intimidating me. Body heaving, I twisted the door handle and shoved it open, slowly walking into the room. Valentine was sat behind his desk, drinking as usual. Jace was sat opposite, also drinking from a shiny glass. They were both smiling and laughing, like father and son. Ugh. Disgusting. I decided to pretend to not know why I was here. Valentine looked at me, smiling. "Ah, Clarissa. Come, join us."

Gulping, I shut the door and slowly sank into the empty seat beside Jace, face completely empty of emotion. I felt dead, an empty shell of nothing. "Why am I here?" I murmured weakly.

"Well," Valentine slurped from his glass. "Clarissa, you know that me and your mother expect grandchildren." My jaw set. "And tomorrow is your wedding night."

This is it. I am going to explode. "What about it?" I asked incredulously, narrowing my eyes. "Nothing will happen. Nothing will ever happen."

Valentine and Jace frowned. My father spoke, "Clarissa, the tradition is—"

"Stuff the tradition." I snorted.

"Clarissa—"

I almost choked. "It's Clary, _Valentine_."

My father turned purple. Jace interrupted, "Clary, be reasonable…"

"What? So you can get some? No way."

Jace blushed red, drinking at his alcohol. Valentine had visibly relaxed. "Clarissa," father spoke clearly. "This is going to happen sooner or later."

"I don't care! It's not happening tomorrow. End of. God. You're sick." I spat and stretched up, storming from the office and slamming the door. Quietly, I pressed my ear to the door. I heard laughing! Laughing! They were joking around again!

Sniffling, I stomped down the hallway, looking for Jonathan. I needed him, more than anybody.


	18. Chapter 18

Morgenstern and Herondale

"Jonathan…" I groaned, slapping him in the shoulder. We were sprawled across his bed, legs tangled, hands twisted together, looking at the ceiling. "You're disgusting."

Jonathan shrugged. "I have to warn you, Clary. Your testosterone-filled fiancé is going to be frustrated tomorrow night. Just keep to your side of the bed."

"Just shut up!" I giggled and shoving against him. "I am not sharing a bed with him! Ew!"

"Clary, he is going to be your husband! You can't _not_ share a bed with him!"

"Just watch me!" I growled, rolling my eyes.

Jonathan laughed. "Do you think Jace can change?"

"He already has." I sighed. "He told me he isn't going to force me into anything. But, after what happened in the office…"

"Do you know what I think?" Jonathan said.

I turned to face him. "What do you think?"

"I think that Jace only said those things because he was in front of Valentine. That's what I think."

I frowned. "I hope you're right, because he was a total ass in the study."

Jonathan ruffled my hair. "I'm always right, Clare-bear. He is a complete brain-dead moron, but he will change." We both chuckled at that, our laughter gradually reducing to amused pants. I groaned and snuggled my face into his chest, cuddling him. Jonathan wrapped an arm around my shoulder, soothing me. "Everything will be fine, Clary. You know exactly what to do."

My eyebrows knitted together in thought. "What do you mean?"

"I know you." Jonathan chuckled. "As soon as you're in your honeymoon home, you will run or lock yourself somewhere. You'll probably hide as well."

"How do you know that?" I grin. That was my plan all along—otherwise, if it was just me and Jace, it would be completely awkward.

Jonathan shrugged. "I know you, Clare-bear. And I also know…" he winced and bit his lip. "I also know that I shouldn't be telling you this…" he trailed off.

"Telling me what?" I suspiciously asked.

"That Jocelyn will be sending yours and Jace's clothes through the portal the next day."

I frowned. "But, what will I sleep in?"

Jonathan's face contorted into a mocking smile. "Mother picked out a rather provocative nighty for you to wear." He snickered.

"You are _joking_!"

"I'm not." He grinned. "I heard her talking to the fashion designer who was here. I saw it."

My cheeks flamed and burned. "What did it look like?"

Jonathan laughed loudly. "It was bright red and—lacy." He bit his lip, hiding his laughter.

"It is not even funny!" I slapped him. "Ugh. I'm going to die."

"Sure, Clare, sure."

The door suddenly shoved open, startling me and Jonathan.


	19. Chapter 19

Morgenstern and Herondale

The door squeaked in protest as it swung open, smashing against the wall loudly. Lifting my head from Jonathan's chest, I groaned and returned to leaning against my brother, who was suppressing a smile. Jace looked completely angry, golden eyes burning with fury. What was his problem? I felt Jonathan's silent laughter ricochet through his chest. Instead, he composed himself, supporting himself on his elbows and looking at Jace sarcastically. I was still clinging to him like coral to a rock.

"Can I help you, Mr Herondale?" Jonathan grinned.

Jace gritted his teeth, jaw set and body protective. "Unhanding my wife would be a good start."

I rolled my exhausted eyes, feeling the tears beginning to burn. Jonathan smiled smugly. "As you can see, Mr Herondale, you're so called wife is clinging onto _me_, not the other way round."

"Look," I snapped, sitting upwards hastily. I turned to Jonathan first. "I am _not_ his wife. And you," I glared at Jace, who was looking completely and utterly furious. "He is my brother. I am allowed to _hug_ him."

Jace narrowed his eyes. "So, he's allowed to hug you, but I'm not, is that it?"

I scoffed and crossed my arms, hating the fact that I was hurting him. "Look, Jace, he's my brother. What did you expect? Did you think that I would separate myself from every single male in the whole world, just because I am being forced to get married?"

"You could have the decency to stop acting like a tart." Jace muttered. I noticed Jonathan's fists clenching in my peripheral vision.

I felt the anger begin to simmer inside me. "He's my brother, Jace. Grow up." I said calmly. "And it's hypocritical considering the amount of tarts you sleep with."

"You are such a cow." Jace hissed, raking his hands through his golden curls.

Jonathan interrupted this time. "I would appreciate it if you stop insulting my sister and leave this room immediately." It was the first time I noticed his eyes. The black was burning demonically. Jonathan was losing his temper.

I turned to Jace. "Go away. Just leave." Quickly, I twisted towards Jonathan, my back to Jace, and I began rubbing his shoulders, trying to get him to focus on me. "Jonathan. Look at me, not him. Please, calm down."

Jace laughed emotionlessly. "You think I'm going to leave you with demon boy? Not a chance."

Jonathan growled. I crawled into his lap, forcing him to look at me, not my annoying arrogant fiancé. "Look at me, not him. Come on. Ignore everything he says. Listen to me." I turned back to Jace quickly. "Leave. Now. LEAVE!" I screamed at him.

Jace flinched and whirled around, storming from the bedroom and slamming the door. Sighing, I looked at Jonathan. He was still breathing heavily, nostrils flared. "He's gone," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and burying my face into his fluffy white hair. "Please. Jonathan. He's gone. Just remember how hard you worked to keep the demon blood under control. Keep remembering, Jonathan." God. I hated Jace for doing this to him. "You have to remember." I kissed his hair.

"I do remember." Jonathan choked out weakly. "I love you, Clare-bear." He engulfed me with his arms, moulding me into him.

"Don't do that to me." I breathed out in relief. "I hate it."

Jonathan laughed. "I'm sorry. It's hard for me not to keep that ungrateful idiot alive." He chuckled. I could feel him grinning. "Jace is jealous, you know that right?"

"Of course I do. I'm not stupid." I hugged him harder. "Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Always."

And just like that, the night faded away, leaving the nerve-wracking morning to begin.


	20. Chapter 20

Morgenstern and Herondale

The morning had arrived.

The morning I had dreaded so terribly.

My wedding.

Groaning, I snuggled closer into Jonathan's chest, relishing the soothing warmth that blossomed through my blood. I felt completly cold, phsyically and mentally. A calloused hand rubbed my shoulder lovingly, letting me know that Jonathan was awake and watching me. Smiling, I wrapped my arms tighter around him, not wanting to move, his skin burning into me.

"Clare-bear." Jonathan whispered. I peeled open my exhausted eyes, peering up at him. His hair was dishevelled and bright against his scarred pale skin, black eyes looking into mine. "You know, Clary." He sighed. "This might be the last time we ever are together like this. Just me and you, brother and sister."

I frowned. "Don't be silly, Jonathan. I will still see you."

"You wont." Jonathan's eyes were full of sadness. "Jace would make sure that I never go near you anymore. I'm half greater demon, Clary."

I sniffed and buried my face into his chest, eyes beginning to water. "But...you're not. Jonathan, you're nothing like a demon."

"I will be, though. Won't I?" he murmured. "Just think, you were the one who always made me better. Everytime I was near you, the demon side literally vanished. But, now what's going to happen?"

"Everything will be fine. I swear on the angel. I will meet up with you, secretly." I leaned up and kissed his cheek, hoping and praying that the demon would remove himself from my older brother. "I am getting married today, Jonathan."

He chuckled. "Believe me, I know." Jonathan sat up abruplty, pulling me up with him. "I love you, Clary, okay? Never forget it. Even if I do let my demon side out, I will still be me. I'll always be me. Got it?"

I nodded and laughed, peeling myself from the covers. After last nights tiring events involving Jace and my brother, I had changed into pyjama shorts and a t-shirt of Jonathan's. I looked at them now, dreading the horrendous nightie that Jocelyn had picked out for the honeymoon. Ugh! The honeymoon!

Holding my hands against my face, I literally collapsed back onto the mattress, stunning Jonathan. "Clare-bear," he groaned, crawling over to me. "You have to get up and get ready for the big day." I swore into my hand.

"Big day my arse." I snapped.

Jonathan laughed and pryed my clamped hands off my face, rolling his eyes. "Its already nine-thirty, the wedding is midday."

God, I wanted to die.

Balling my hands into fists, I launched myself off the bed, beginning to pace. "Oh god. I think I might collapse. What if I trip? I cant kiss Jace!" I exclaimed suddenly. "I have to kiss him in front of all those people! Oh..."

I was interrupted when the door swung open. Jocelyn stood there, dressed in her paint-splattered dungarees, her red curly hair tied in a knot. She clapped happily. "Oh my god! My beautiful daughter is getting married! Aw my goodness! She's all grown up!"

I plastered a tired grin on my face, nodding my head. I couldn't hurt my mothers feelings, my father on the other hand...

"Oh goodness, Clary! You are going to look stunning!" I smiled reluctantly again, eyes wide with terror. "Come on! Come on! Come on! We need to get ready! Meet me in my bedroom!" Jocelyn hurried out and slammed the door. I started laughing, which surprised Jonathan, but soon, my laughter mingled into depressed sobs.

My brother came over and smoothed my shoulders, calming me. "Go and get ready, Clare-bear." He nudged me forward. "I'll meet you at the wedding. Save a dance for me."

I kissed his cheek and sprinted from the bedroom, seeking my mothers door. Scrubbing at my red-rimmed eyes, I breathed deeply and opened the door. The room was littered with make up and clothes and hair products...everything. Jocelyn appeared from the bathroom. "Your bath is ready. Meet me out here as soon as you can."

After locking the bathroom door, I ditched my pyjamas and sunk into the bubbly hot bath, relishing the calming effects of the water. The scent of jasmine and chamomile filled the tiled room. I slowly massaged a lavender bar of soap into my body and scrubbed coconut shampoo into my poofy bed hair. Rinsing, I savoured the hot water before my mother told me to 'get a move on!'.

I pulled the plug and wrapped myself in a fluffy towel, unlocking the door. Immediately, Jocelyn had yanked me towards a white dressing table and pulled out a hair dryer. She set to work on drying the dripping red curls and brushing through the tangled knots.

Everything was a rush.

Soon enough, my hair was tamed and fresh. My mother was now combing it again.

"Are you going to put it up?" I asked, hoping the answer was yes. I couldn't cope with my hair annoying me on the worst day of my life.

"No, Jace likes it down." She answered simply. A surge of uncontrollable jealousy powered through me. So, she listens to Jace but not me?

I coughed and frowned, thinking up a plan. "No, he doesn't, mother. Jace specifically told me he prefers it pinned back. You know how boys are; they want to see as much skin as possible. My hair would just cover up my neck and back, won't it?"

Jocelyn considered this, nodding in approval. "Yes. It makes sense, Clary. Clever girl."

I suppressed my triumphant grin as my mother began pinning loose strands back into a pretty bun, leaving some ringlets to curl around my pale face. She wove delicate looking white flowers through the bun, giggling once it was finished.

"You're so beautiful!" I smiled as she began searching through her make up, producing many products. "These will only enhance your natural beauty. I'll only be using some eyeliner, mascara and lipstick. Nothing to worry about, Clary."

I reassured her that I wasn't worried and she began drawing, prodding, poking, smoothing and rubbing cosmetics onto my face. I wanted to cry.

Once finished with that, she glanced at the clock. I followed her gaze and gasped. It was eleven o'clock. I had been here for an hour and a half. The wedding was in a hour!

Jocelyn pulled me up and lead me to my golden dress. My wedding dress.

Stupid infernal piece of clothing!

I was hurried into the dress with Jocelyn making awed sounds at me. How awful. She lead me over to a floor-length mirror.

The girl opposite me wasn't me. It couldn't be.

Her body had curves in all the right places and her skin was flawless. The gold brought out the colour in her arms and neck; her bright fresh green eyes shone prominentely against everything. Beautiful red hair was curled into a bun and flowers were woven into it, accommodating her face, which looked different but more grown up; the exact shade of her hair was painted on her lips and her mysterious eyes were sexy and dark. Wow. She couldn't be me, surely.

"You look absoloutly stunning, Clary." Jocelyn choked behind the forming tears. "I love you so much!" She quickly hugged me, careful not to touch my face or hair. After letting me go, she pulled out a pair of matching golden heels.

"Oh no." I gasped. "Mother. I can't wear them!"

She frowned. "Why not?"

"I'll trip over and humiliate myself!"

Jocleyn laughed and ditched the shoes, pulling out a pair of flat light golden dolly shoes from under her bed. "I bought these just incase." I smiled and slipped them on, breathing heavily. "Now come on, we need to get there."


	21. Chapter 21

Morgenstern and Herondale

We had arrived at the church.

It was a huge and ancient-looking building, something that archeologists would envy. Currently, I was cooped up in the bride's room. But, honestly, it was more like an animal holding cage. It was plain white and small, the size of my old bedroom. Unfortunately, the ceremony started in half an hour, at one o'clock, so the guests had began arriving ever since midday, leaving my nerves alight and blazing.

I was fumbling nervously with my bouquet; it was a freshly-smelling bunch of white roses wrapped in a white lacy material. The flowers scent was beginning to dull my scared thumping heart, until the door opened. Valentine stepped inside, wearing a crisp black suit and tie that clashed with his neat, stark white hair. "We're starting the ceremony early. All the guests have arrived already."

My eyes widened in shock, my lips trembling. "Now?" I whispered weakly.

He smiled proudly. "Now." Valentine held his arm out to me. Instead, I leapt up and wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging him. My dad was a man who taunted, mocked and sometimes even hurt me, but the negative things didn't outweigh the good things he's done. He's raised me, taught me, helped me and loved me. I would miss him.

Valentine rubbed my shoulders, pulling me back to look into my eyes. "I am proud of you, Clary. You've turned into a very brave, beautiful young woman." He held his arm for me again. I sighed and took it, slipping my arm into his and holding the flowers in my left hand. I needed to be strong.

We strolled through the door, Valentine leading me through the empty hallways. We were approaching closer and closer to the chatter and laughter of people. Arriving behind an enormous old door, my father asked me, "Ready?"

"No." I murmured as he pushed it open.

The hall was huge. People packed the benches; a mulitude of different coloured eyes looking at me in anticipation. My breathing sped up, almost choking me. Everybody stood up, gasping, awing and smiling at me as we began our descent down the petal strewn aisle. The music started up, a different assortment of violins and violas, and we walked in time to the tempo. I nearly died of embarassment.

I looked at the guests near the front; Jonathan was looking worriedly at me, Jocelyn beaming and dabbing at her eyes. On the other side were Stephen and Celine, grinning at me. Reluctantly, I looked ahead.

There stood Jace.

He was facing me, genuinly smiling. He wore a black suit with a light golden tie, matching my dress and his hair. His piercing amber eyes melted into mine.

We were getting closer and closer.

Closer.

Closer.

And then I was there, and Valentine was handing my shaking hand into Jace's, and everyone was sat down, and I was completly rooted to the spot, staring at the shadowhunter before me and Jace.

The man held out the stele for Jace and began chanting words that my brain refused to process. Everything was happening so fast. Too fast.

The burn of the stele brought me back to reality. One on my arm and one over my heart. It was my turn. With wide eyes, I sketched both the runes, my hands doing all the work.

I had no idea what was going on. I was completely frozen, talking when I needed to and drawing when I was told. Finally, everything was finished, except the kiss.

Everyone began applauding.

My heart sunk.

I was a wife.

To a man I may or may not even like.

Jace leaned forward and planted his lips to mine. I just remained frozen; Jace's hands pulled mine to his chest, making sure nobody saw and ensuring that everybody thought I was kissing him back. He ended the kiss and pulled me to his side, holding me protectively around my waist.

Oh Angel Raziel, help me.


	22. Chapter 22

Morgenstern and Herondale

Jace literally pulled me to each and every guest in the reception, thanking them for coming. I talked when I needed to and acted kindly, my face obviously emotionless and shocked. Walking slowly towards another guest, I mulled over the past five hours, almost bursting into hysterics.

We had arrived at the reception, being welcomed and congratulated and hugged and kissed. Jace's suit-clad arm had remained positioned around my waist uncomfortably, tugging me along to each couple or group of shadowhunters to talk and thank them.

Jace wouldn't let go of me, even when we cut the cake and ate food. I could tell this marriage was going to be clingy. I was trapped in a sticky spider's web of false love and arranged marriage.

During the reception, I had to have the first dance with Jace, which was embarrassing and awkward. I danced with Jonathan mostly; he made me laugh and giggle and entertained me with rude jokes about people here. He made impressions of Jace and everybody else.

But, now, after five hours of slow music, pounding music and all times of other music, we were saying goodbye to everyone. Unfortunately, it was my time to say goodbye to Jonathan.

I was walking quietly over to him, finally able to ditch Jace. Jonathan was leaning on the wall, on the side of the thumping dance floor, arms crossed and looking annoyed. I ran into him and threw my arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. I knew my makeup was probably screwed but oh well. Jonathan smoothed my back supportively, kissing my head.

"I will miss you the most." I whispered in his ear.

I felt him smile. "I'll miss you more. Always."

I laughed emotionlessly, sniffling and burying my face into his neck. "I love you, okay?"

"I love you loads, Clare-bear."

I heard someone familiar clear their throat behind me. Jonathan sighed, kissing my forehead and unwrapping himself from me. He reached towards my face and swiped away the tears. Jace's muscular arms quickly wrapped around my middle, pulling me to his chest protectively.

I held up my hand and waved to Jonathan sadly, wiping away my tears. He smiled back, blowing me a kiss which made me laugh.

Tugging me hastily towards the middle of the dance floor, we were surrounded by everyone. Valentine and Stephen walked towards the banner-strewn wall, both of them conferring secretly. Stephen pulled out his stele and began sketching _my _portal rune onto the wall, chuckling at something my father said. The circle of clapping people dispersed around the wall, waiting for me and Jace to walk through.

My heart was thumping uncontrollably as we walked towards it.

The last person I saw was Jonathan, a deep frown plastered onto his face.


	23. Chapter 23

Morgenstern and Herondale

We stepped through the hazy purple portal and arrived in a fresh open room. The walls were white and the floors were an exotic wood; two cream sofas with a bamboo frame occupied the room, a Hawaiian-looking thin rug underneath them. A huge flat screen TV was hung up onto the wall, opposite the sofas and beside the glass door.

Raising my eyebrows incredulously, I slowly walked into the living room, holding up my long golden wedding dress. I stepped hesitantly towards the glass door, the warm sunlight spilling onto my skin. Holding the handle, I pulled open the glass door and gasped. Everything was so hot.

Trees surrounded the little villa, swaying in the small warm breeze. This was the only small house around—we were literally isolated in this huge jungle.

I turned around and looked at the house; it was made of lightly-coloured bamboo, the roof wooden dark sticks. There were many open windows, letting the Jamaican air in.

It was beautiful.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder gently. I knew it was Jace, so I didn't turn around. "Do you like it?" Jace murmured, winding his arms around my waist and pulling me to his chest. Jace was pushing his luck. I just had to persevere with him. He started planting kisses on my neck—that's when I immediately stopped.

"Jace." I snapped, turning around. "Enough."

Jace frowned. "But we're husband and wife."

"I know." I sighed. What was the point in fighting anymore? I turned back around, admiring the mysterious forest. "It's beautiful. Who owns this place?"

Jace just wrapped his arms around me again, nuzzling his face into my neck. I clenched my jaw. "We do now. My parents agreed for me to buy this. It's all ours." He was kissing along my shoulder.

My fists curled into whitened balls as he tried to ease my dress strap down. "Jace!" I yelled and pulled away from him, whirling to face him. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!"

Jace laughed. "I'm only testing, baby."

I narrowed my eyes. "It's _Clary_, not _baby_."

"How about gorgeous?" he chuckled. "No. I'm only joking, baby."

Gritting my teeth, I stormed back into the house. I began searching through the rooms. The kitchen was open and sleek, everything smooth and shiny. The bathroom was painted a sea-blue, decorated with sea-shells and ornaments. Unfortunately, there was only one bedroom. It was almost as big as the living room; a huge four-poster bed sat in the middle, white silk curtains lined around the frame. There was a big wardrobe and chest of drawers, a floor-length mirror and changing screen. I made a mental note to myself to never get changed behind the screen—it was practically see-through.

I heard Jace behind me and I whirled around, a questioning look on my face. "Where's the luggage?"

"There is no luggage. Your parents thought it was a good idea to buy some new clothes. They will be sending the new ones tomorrow." He pointed to the wardrobe. "They said that there was a dress and your nightclothes in there for today."

I stormed towards the huge piece of furniture and opened it. Inside, there was the horrible red nightie—I cringed—and a tight-looking cream dress. I yanked it out and turned around. Jace was still stood there, thinking about something. I cleared my throat and he jerked his head up.

"Um…I'm going to get changed." I frowned.

Jace raised an eyebrow. "Go on then."

"Get out." I snapped.

He laughed and raised his hands in surrender, chuckling as he slammed the door. I groaned and muffled my screams of annoyance. After peeling myself from the wedding dress, I slid the cream one over my head, chewing my lip. It was too short, only reaching mid-thigh, and way too tight. It constricted my whole body. I looked like a tart. I began pulling out the flowers from my hair, undoing the bun and brushing through my red curls. Leaving the room barefoot, I padded through the hallway, reaching the living room.

Noticing Jace outside, chatting on the phone, I slumped into the sofa, grabbing the remote and switching on the TV. I flicked through the channels, frowning at the strange programmes and laughing when something funny came on. I heard the door open and felt the sofa dip.

"What the heck are you wearing?!" Jace growled. I raised my eyebrows and looked at him. His golden eyes were practically bulging from his head.

"A dress." I stated simply. He was annoyed and I was biting back laughter.

Jace rubbed his eyes. "Well, change out of it."

"Why?" I crossed my arms.

"Because it's ridiculously indecent. Go and get changed." He snapped.

I narrowed my eyes. "No. I have nothing to get changed into."

"Go and—put your wedding dress on then." Jace suggested rudely.

"No." I went back to the TV, ignoring Jace.

"I don't want my wife wearing revealing clothing."

I laughed emotionlessly. "Why? Because I look like one of _your_ prostitutes?"

Jace hissed, "Don't be so stupid!"

"Don't be so over-protective then. I'm not like you. I don't sleep with everyone I lay my eyes on."

"I'm not like that anymore." He groaned. "Please. You have to believe me."

I smiled. "I do believe you." I reached over and ruffled his golden curls. "You just make me angry sometimes."

Jace laughed and we continued watching TV.


	24. Chapter 24

Morgenstern and Herondale

"I still don't like the dress." Jace murmured quietly, a frown planted on his normally mocking face. Shrugging, I flicked through the TV again, ignoring his ridiculous protests. "I really don't like it."

Rolling my exhausted eyes, I glanced at the clock abruptly; it was seven thirty. I groaned internally. That meant it was bedtime soon—and I had to wear that stupid nighty and sleep in the same bed as Jace. Quickly, I devised a plan. I would wear this cream dress as night clothes and I will sleep on the sofa. Voila!

"You tired?" Jace asked suddenly. Oh great, now I had to try and break the news to him. "We can go to bed if you want."

"Correction," I said. "_You_ can go to bed. Technically, I'm already in bed."

Jace narrowed his eyes, looking at the sofa. "You're not sleeping here!" he exclaimed.

"I'm not sleeping with you." I grumbled, staring at the TV.

"And why not?" Jace quizzed. I almost choked. "We're married, baby."

Slapping my hand to my forehead, I bit my lip to stop me from attacking the stupid boy. "Jace, you don't understand…"

"Oh. I understand perfectly!" Jace hissed, angrily raking his hands through his curls. "My wife, who I married today, doesn't even love me!"

I sighed in frustration. "You're being so irrational and aggressive."

"It's true though, isn't it? I love you, Clary." He roughly grabbed my face and turned me to look at him. God, he was seriously annoying me now. I pulled away from him, leaping up and moving to the other cream sofa. Jace just stared at me with regretful eyes. Stupid boy. "Please…Clary, baby." He begged.

"What?" I yelled. "What do you want?!"

"I'm sorry. Please, bab—" I narrowed my burning bright eyes at him. "Please, Clary." He corrected quickly. "Come on. I didn't mean to grab you." Jace held his face in his hands when I didn't respond. I just stared at the floor, daydreaming.

Suddenly, he pounced from the leather sofa and stalked towards me, with a face as furious as lightning. Screeching, I scooted closer and closer to the end of the sofa, attempting to outrun the approaching boy. With ridiculous swiftness, I was immediately in his strong arms and being carried towards the bedroom. Crap, crap, crap! I thrashed around as he swung me into the fresh open room and slammed the door, locking it. I was dumped unceremoniously onto the bed.

"What the hell are you doing?" I shouted, jumping from the bed and storming towards Jace, who was leaning against the door, examining the key. Reaching him, I quickly swiped for the key—but Jace was too quick. Grinning, he dangled the rusted object above my head.

"You're not going to get it, baby." Jace laughed, pushing me away. I watched as he held open his trousers and boxers and dropped the key into his underwear, still smiling like a madman. Blanching, I screwed up my face in disgust. "I'd like to see you get that now."

Groaning, I spun away from him, fisting my hands in my hair. "You're so annoying!" I spat.

"It's a talent." I twirled back around and frowned at him. "It's been a long day, I'm going to bed." Jace yanked off his blazer and undone his shirt, he then began unbuttoning his trousers. Yelping, I held my hand across my eyes. I heard the rustle of the covers. "You can open your eyes now, baby." Reluctantly, I peeled my hand away. Jace was sat up in bed, covers drawn around his waist, showing off his rune-swirled, scarred chest. Looking away, I focused on something else. "Come on now, Clary. Get into bed."

There was nowhere to sleep…except the bed.

"Come on, baby. You need to put your pyjamas on."

"Shut up!" I hissed savagely. Stamping towards the wardrobe, I groaned and bundled up the hideous nighty. Where could I get changed? Under the covers was the best idea, but unfortunately, Jace was still in the bed. The changing screen was see-through—I'm pretty sure that was Jace's idea.

I decided the covers were the best idea. Rushing towards the bed, I peeled back the duvet and slid inside, as far from Jace as possible. I looked at him…he was watching me with a smirk.

"Do you mind?" I growled. "Turn around. Now."

He eyed my provocative red nighty and grinned. Slowly, he turned around. Speedily, I stripped from my clothes awkwardly and slipped the horrible material over my body. So Jace didn't see me, I pulled the covers all the way up to my neck. "Goodnight Jace."

He turned back around and grinned again. "Goodnight, baby."

"It's Clary!"


	25. Chapter 25

Morgenstern and Herondale

Something was wrong. Groaning, I attempted to wipe away the perspiration on my forehead, but my slick arms were pinned. Frowning in confusion, I recalled falling asleep beside Jace, in that awful goddamned nighty. It was probably the morning now.

That's when I sensed it; a repeated gentle brush of something against my knotted hair. Reluctantly, I peeled open my sealed eyelids, instantly regretting it.

I was snuggled into Jace, my arm wrapped around his naked stomach and my head propped on his chest. I hated my unconscious self. Jace was awake, his golden curls dishevelled and eyes observing my movements.

Clamping my eyes back shut, I removed my arm and slowly turned, back facing him. I sighed and snuggled into myself, ignoring Jace as he shifted closer to me.

"Baby," he leaned forward and whispered into my ear, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to his body. That's when I noticed it. Screaming, I sprung defensively off the bed, tripping over the tangled covers and slamming into the floor. Crawling towards the wall, my back crashed into it, causing all the air to zap from me. Jace jumped upwards, stood on the mattress and frowning. "What?! What's wrong?!" he yelled, looking around the bedroom.

Heart thumping, I pointed a shaking finger at the horrible creature crawling across my plumped pillow. It was disgusting and black and creeping across the pillow, all eight furry legs probing around. Ew. Jace looked to where I was pointing and laughed mockingly, clutching his sides and jumping off the bed. I squealed as he approached it.

"Is that it?!" Jace chuckled, looking at me incredulously. "That's what scared you? You're a shadowhunter! You fight demons! This is a bloody spider!"

I shivered. "It's a big, hairy tarantula! Get it away from me!" Jace scooped his hands around the thing, coaxing it into his hand and closing his palms around it safely. He waggled his eyebrows and walked towards me. "NO! NO! NOOOO!" I yelled and launched myself up, sprinting towards the door. I rattled on the handle—but Jace had locked it last night. The key was in his boxers!

Ignoring the fact that I was dressed in the horrible lacy nighty, I screamed loudly and rushed to the other side of the room, pushing myself against the wardrobe. I thrashed my arms around, begging him to get away. Jace pursued forward and thrust his hand towards my face, grinning. I screeched and clamped my eyes shut, crying for him to stop.

Jace opened his hand and smirked at the creature—but it suddenly moved. I screamed extremely loudly as the hairy tarantula jumped onto the wall beside my head. Jace swore badly and ducked as the thing began leaping downwards, onto the floor, inching closer to my bare feet. I'm pretty sure he screeched as I dived onto the bed, burying my whole body under the covers. He followed, and we were both under the covers, clinging onto each other and panting.

"Where the bloody hell did that thing go?!" he shouted, beginning to swear randomly.

I shivered and whimpered. "It's your fault! Get rid of it!"

Jace shook his head. "No way! Did you see that thing?! It was jumping! I mean…bloody hell!"

"It's your fault!" I growled and slapped him hard in the shoulder. "Why couldn't you just get rid of that thing?!"

Jace shrugged, his arms wrapped around me. "It's not my fault." He huffed. "I didn't know it would jump." Jace looked at me a grinned crookedly. "I like your nighty, by the way."

I groaned. He was just in his boxers and I was in a rather revealing silky nighty. And we were practically hugging each other. Great. "Shut up." I snapped savagely. "Just get rid of it! Or get the bloody key!"

Jace looked down at his boxers. "You need to get out of the duvet first. I think I've lost it down there somewhere."

I muffled my scream into the covers and slapped him again. "I'm not going out there! That monsters jumping around on the floor!"

"I need to retrieve the key." Jace grumbled. "It's getting uncomfortable."

"Ugh. Jace!" I slapped my hands across my eyes. "Hurry up! I'm not looking!" I heard him rustling around and the bed creaking and then he coughed. "Have you got it?"

"Yes." Jace said. I looked now and there was the key, pressed into his palm. "Wanna hold it?"

"Shove off." I snarled. "And stop freaking tickling my arm!" Jace's eyes widened like saucers as he held up both his hands. Oh crap! Screaming so loudly my voice hurt, I yanked myself from the covers and began slapping my arm ridiculously fast, knocking off the horrid black creature. It scuttled around the floor. "Jace! Jace! Get rid of it!"

Jace jumped from the bed, eyes flickering around the room for something. Quickly, he completely pulled out the beside drawer and slammed it on the rampaging beast, holding the drawer down onto the thing and squashing it.

I sighed and shivered, leaning against the wall for support. Jace swore and lifted the drawer, revealing the squished splatter that used to be a tarantula.

"I'll sort that out later." Jace panted, hands on knees and catching his breath, oblivious to the fact that we were both half-naked.

That was one of the scariest moments of my life.

"You better get changed." He gestured to my nighty. "You'll catch a cold."

"Shut up." I hissed. "Are the clothes here yet?" My shocked eyes were looking at the dead spider.

Jace nodded. "In the living room. Here," he walked towards the door and shoved the key in the lock, unlocking the door. "You should get changed in the bathroom or something."

By the sounds of it, we were both pretty stunned at what happened this morning. "Thanks," I muttered and slowly staggered out the hallway.

By the angel, I think I might die of shock.


	26. Chapter 26

Morgenstern and Herondale

After showering and cleaning up my hysterical state, I changed into a floral holiday dress that reached mid-thigh and slipped on a pair of pink flip-flops. I attempted to tame my crazed curly mop of red hair and brushed on some light makeup. This was a holiday; I was allowed to do whatever I wanted to.

I slowly wandered into the living room, daydreaming about everything that had happened in the past week—but, most of all, I was pondering on my new name. Clarissa Herondale. Jace Herondale's 'loving' wife. Ew.

That's when I smelt it; burning.

Rolling my eyes, I sprinted into the kitchen quickly, laughing at the sight before me. Jace was swearing and skipping crazily towards each thing he was cooking, oblivious to the bacon that was charcoaled and the eggs that were cremated.

I giggled and swiftly switched off every cooking hob, causing Jace to frown.

"I was doing perfectly well." Jace huffed sulkily.

I cracked a smile. "Of course you were. You obviously like your bacon black."

Jace crossed his arms and pouted. "I am doing fine, thank you."

"Oh shut up and let me cook." I snapped, shoving him out the way.

Jace hissed, "No! Let me do it!" He grabbed my arm and hauled me towards the wooden arch, shoving me outside rudely. "I can do it!" he groaned.

"No you can't." I laughed emotionlessly, attempting to manoeuvre myself strategically around the huge, muscular boy. Jace just raised a fair eyebrow and swiftly blocked my path into the kitchen. "Jaaaaaace." I snarled, folding my arms and narrowing my frustrated green eyes.

"Nope." He popped the p. "This is our _honeymoon_ breakfast. I'm cooking it."

I rolled my eyes again. "Please? There won't be any breakfast left to eat!"

"As long as you change out of that dress." Jace's eyes darkened. "It's way too short."

Sighing deeply, I raked my slim, scarred hands through my enlarged curls, chewing my lip and trying to control my intense, raging anger. "Jace, this is the _longest_ one!"

"I don't care. I don't want you wearing something _so_ revealing!" Jace hissed. "Go get changed!"

"Are you mentally unstable?" I set my jaw. "This is the longest one!"

"Either you go and get changed, or I get to cook breakfast." Jace smiled smugly.

I flung my arms in defeat. "Fine. Burn down the kitchen then." I whirled and stalked off towards the living room. Once there, I slumped onto the cream sofa and twiddled my red curls, flicking on the TV for some entertainment. That's when I saw it, in my peripheral vision. Oh crap.

Screaming, I flung a cushion at the furry black thing on the floor and leaped onto the sofa. Jace rushed in and frowned. "What?!" he yelled.

"It's another spider! Th-there!" I pointed at the cushion covering the horrible thing.

Jace surprised me by booming a loud laugh and picking up the cushion. I screeched and looked away, cowering on the sofa. I heard footsteps coming closer and then my hands were pried away, revealing a grinning Jace. He held a plastic spider in his hand. A plastic spider.

"I had to do it." Jace chuckled. "Your face!"

I growled and sprung off the sofa, pouncing onto the stupid boy. I slammed him angrily into the floor, pinning him there. I repeatedly smashed his back onto the floor, holding the collar of his shirt. "You." For every word, I shoved him harder into the floor. "Are. A. Stupid. Ass. And. I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You. Painfully."

Jace was laughing and he suddenly flipped me over, trapping my hands onto the floor. "You seriously need to change out of that dress, baby." I thrashed around and swore. "Especially when we're wrestling together." He waggled his eyebrows.

"Ugh! Enough!" I spat, shivering in disgust.

Jace chuckled and released me, yanking me up. Very quickly, he pecked me on the lips and scuttled back towards the kitchen. He shouted, "Breakfast will be ready soon!" I scrubbed away his kiss from my lips and slumped back onto the sofa.

Ugh. Boys.


	27. Chapter 27

Morgenstern and Herondale 

Feeling extremely suspicious, my eyebrows knotted together as I reluctantly sunk opposite Jace, seating myself at the small round table, which was situated outside on the wooden decking. The warm Jamaican sunlight sunk deliciously into my pale skin as I frowned, making me cross and re-cross my arms nervously. Jace was smirking at my bewildered expression—before me, dished onto sea-blue plates, was breakfast. It wasn't burnt or cremated, or in the least charred. It smelled and looked exquisite. There were sausages, hash browns, eggs, bacon, beans and a tomato, and, to my dismay, it was completely and utterly fine. But I still didn't trust him.

"What?" he grinned annoyingly, slicing up some of his food and shovelling it noisily into his mouth. He laughed through a mouthful, chewing it loudly. "I cooked it all myself."

"I don't believe you." I huffed, knowing it was true but not wanting to admit it.

"Oh, come on baby. I just cooked it!" Jace chuckled.

I groaned inwardly. Before breakfast, we had made a bet; if Jace cooked the perfect breakfast, without any flaws at all, he could tell me to do something and I would have to obey. If he cooked a crap breakfast, I could tell him to do something.

I was regretting it severely.

Biting my lip, I picked up my knife and fork and began unceremoniously tearing apart my food, taking all my raging anger out on the breakfast. I shoved a sliced piece of sausage into my mouth and chewed it furiously. Jace was grinning mockingly. "Hmm…I wonder what I can make you do." He began fingering his chin in thought.

All the warmth flooded from my cheeks and left me quite pale. I finished my breakfast and began tracing my arm, sketching my black runes whilst Jace was thinking. He cleared his throat and I looked upwards hastily. "Okay," he began. "You have two choices." Jace smiled. "Either, you act like my wife the _whole_ day. Or…" His golden eyes bore into mine. "You kiss me. And it has to be a proper kiss."

"Why are you doing this?" I sniffed uncomfortably.

Jace genuinely smiled, his lips tugging up at the corners. "Because, I want to show you what it would be like if you were actually my wife. No pretending. No shouting. No hating. Just one proper kiss."

Sighing anxiously, I pushed back my seat and slowly stood up, Jace copying my movements. I bit my lip as I shuffled towards my husband. Before I could do anything, Jace snatched my hand and pulled me into the exotic holiday home, yanking me into the living room. We both slumped onto the sofa, me breathing heavily.

I turned to him, gulping. Jace caught my nervous reaction. "Hey," he cupped my freckled cheek and made me look into his caramel eyes. "Please, Clary, don't be nervous." He began leaning forward and I mimicked his actions.

His warm lips pressed against mine softly. I hooked my hands into his tousled hair and our lips moved against one another's gently. It was strange to be kissed like this. Foreign, almost alien. But, at the same time, it was nice and fulfilling. Before I could control myself, I pulled him against me even rougher and began exploring his lips. Jace groaned and carefully lowered me back onto the sofa, smoothing my barely-existent curves. I raked my fingers across his back and gasped.

And then I remembered.

Crap.

By the angel, what was I doing?

I ripped myself away from him and tumbled off the sofa, tears pricking my wide bright eyes. My eyes turned raw and tears began spilling onto my flushed cheeks. Jace just looked at me in complete shock, which turned to concern quickly. "Clary…" he began. Leaping up abruptly, I whirled and sprinted down the hallway, flinging myself into the bathroom and locking it. I yanked my seraph blade from the emergency thigh sheath and drew two locking runes.

I collapsed exhaustedly onto the tiles, crying hysterically into my palms. Everything was so confusing. I didn't think I loved Jace—I don't. I don't think so. But, I took this kiss way too far. I should have fought it. I remembered how my heart thumped erratically as I kissed him. I screamed into my hands uncontrollably.

Then I heard pounding on the door and Jace's frantic voice. "Clary! Please, baby! Open the door! Come on, baby! Please!" A huge thump landed on the door, and then swearing. Obviously, he had punched the door. "Ow, crap! Clary! Baby, please!"

Slowly, I sunk onto the cool tiles and pressed my burning, stained cheek onto them. It certainly removed the intense hotness. Hmm…

Suddenly, the door almost splintered, creating a raging crash. I closed my red-rimmed eyes and hid my face into the floor, my arms covering the sides. And then I heard footsteps—cautious, gentle steps coming closer to me. They stopped. I heard Jace's clothes rustle as he sat cross-legged on the bathroom floor, centimetres from my hysterical form.

God, I was _so_ confused.

And then I was airborne. I swung helplessly in Jace's strong arms as he carried me into the bedroom, still not opening my ashamed eyes. I felt the bed underneath me and arms wrap around my body, pulling me into a hug. I buried my face into Jace's shoulder and stained his shirt with my tears.

"Please don't cry." Jace whispered. "I hate it when you cry. All those times…" he went on weakly. "I have to watch you cry too often. I love you and I hate it when you cry. Stop killing me." He crushed me tighter to him. I felt him grin then. "I don't wanna tickle you, baby. I'll do it." Jace's fingers jabbed into my ribs and I squealed, falling backwards onto the bed. He pounced on me and began assaulting me with his awful tickling, making me giggle. Once he was finished torturing me, he pulled me into a sitting position and wiped away my tears with his thumb. "I love you. Now," Jace pulled me off the bed. "We're going for a walk."


	28. Chapter 28

Morgenstern and Herondale 

The yellow sunlight spilled through the rustling tree canopy, illuminating the forest in a haze of brightness and drenching the air with warmth. Twisted trees held many exotic fruits; mangos and coconuts mostly. Jace and I crunched through the jungle, silent for once. I was daydreaming and walking at the same time.

I was still completely confused. I had convinced myself that Jace was an arrogant, sarcastic arse. But, underneath the tough, mocking exterior was someone that cared. Someone that cared for _me_. And that was complicated on its own—even without adding Valentine, my future, my emotions and even goddamned Jonathan.

Valentine would be ridiculously smug if he found out we are actually together—_we're not_! I would also have to think of my future. Could I seriously be happy with Jace? Could I honestly share a life with him? And not just that, but do my feelings for him mirror our relationship status? We are husband and wife, and yet, I didn't know if I could love him. And finally, Jonathan. My older demonic brother. One of the only people in the world that understood me. And, Jace probably won't let me see him again. Well. He can stuff that where the sun doesn't shine.

That was something I needed to bring up. Right now.

"Um…Jace…" I gulped, focusing my eyes on the forest floor. I wanted to speak to Jonathan.

Jace groaned. "Uh oh." He sighed. "I know what that voice means." I chewed my lip nervously. "Is there something wrong?"

God. I needed to hear Jonathan's soothing voice. "Can I borrow your phone?" I planned to not mention my brother's name.

"Why?" Jace asked suspiciously.

"I just want to phone my mum." My eyes widened fearfully whilst I told the lie.

Jace narrowed his eyes. "Your mum?"

"My mum." I repeated clearly.

"Your mum?"

I sighed. "Yes, my goddamned mum. Jesus. Can I just use your phone?"

Jace rolled his caramel eyes and shoved a hand into his pocket, fumbling around. He produced a thin, touch-screen mobile and handed it to me. Heart thumping, I quickly dialled Jonathan's number. I had memorized the number ever since he stole the phone, having to hide it from Valentine. It was the only way to contact him. Slowly, I sunk onto a nearby felled tree trunk, splattered with fresh green moss. Jace crossed his arms and waited for me, standing opposite.

Jonathan picked up on the third ring. "Hello?" he grunted angrily into the phone.

"Hey!" I almost yelled. "It's me, Clary!"

Jace raised an eyebrow at my behaviour, becoming suspicious. I smiled reassuringly at him, whilst my brother swore into the phone. "By the angel, Clare-bear. Oh god. You're okay. You're okay."

I frowned. "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" Jace grinned at that—what a prat. I wasn't talking about being okay with _him_. Ugh.

Jonathan groaned in—pain? "Oh god. You're okay."

"What's wrong?" I asked abruptly, alarmed.

He heaved heavily. "Nothing," he gasped. "Just—having a hard time."

"A hard time?"

"Remember what I said to you?" Jonathan hissed. "About—"

"The demon blood. Yeah. I remember." I grabbed a fistful of my hair angrily. "It's happening, isn't it?" I made sure to not mention anything important in front of Jace.

"Yeah. It's happening." He spat through clenched teeth. "I'll still be the same person. I promise you. I will always be the same. Come home and see me soon, will you?"

I laughed emotionlessly, tears threatening my eyes. "Of course I will. As soon as I can. I promise. Okay? I swear on the angel. Stuff it—" I growled. "I swear on the angel Raziel himself." Jace's eyes widened, a frown plastered on his brow. He was probably wondering what was going on.

"I love you." Jonathan choked out.

I smiled. "I love you too."

"No," he groaned again. "I _love _you. I really love you."

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Yeah. I love you too, Jonathan." Jace's eyes widened to saucers when he heard me accidentally say Jonathans name.

Jonathan laughed in—defeat? Exhaustion? "No. Clare-bear. Oh…goddammit. I'll see you later."

"Okay…I love—" Jace yanked the phone out of my hand, a scowl on his face. He hung up the phone and pocketed it angrily. Quickly, he snatched my hand and dragged me back through the forest. "Hey! I thought we were going for a walk?!"

Jace refused to answer and the villa came back into view, stood mysterious and looking homely. I hissed at how hard he held my wrist and huffed in frustration. Jace unlocked the door and pushed me inside rudely, slamming the door behind him. I wandered across the room and slumped sulkily into the sofa, fiddling with my dress.

"I'm sorry." I murmured guiltily, not looking at him.

Jace began pacing. "Sorry doesn't cut it."

"Well…what should I do then?" I whispered.

"How about you never talk to your brother again?" Jace suggested, annoyed.

I sighed. "I can't do that. He's my brother. He needs me."

Jace laughed. "The only thing he needs you for is your blood. I'm sure he'd quite happily spill your blood and then drink it all."

I blanched in disgust. "That's disgusting. Jonathan wouldn't do that to anyone."

"He's a blood-thirsty demon. And he's only thirsty for you."

I shook my head. "You're sick."

"It's true and you know it." Jace snapped. No. I didn't know it. Why would I? Jonathan is everything to me.

"I don't believe you." I rolled my eyes at him. "You're so…judgemental."

"Judgemental?" Jace spat incredulously.

I nodded. "Jonathan is half demon. But he has angel blood too."

"He is half _greater_ demon. The angel blood has been burnt out of him."

"Even if that is true, he's kind and loving and caring."

Jace chuckled again. "Yeah, I'm sure he's definitely _loving_."

I frowned and stood up. "I'm not listening to this crap anymore." I began walking to the kitchen.

"What're you doing?!" Jace growled.

"I'm hungry." I stated simply, walking towards the fridge and flinging it open, searching for something to eat.

Jace advanced on me, stalking into the kitchen. "Oh no! We're not done talking!"

"I am." I murmured, grabbing a bar of chocolate. Hmm…chocolate. I snapped the bar in half and began nibbling on it, savouring the rich flavour.

"You will not speak to him again!" Jace pointed a finger at me. "He's dangerous!" I continued chewing the chocolate. "Are you even listening to me?" he stormed over and snatched the chocolate from my hand and flung it over his shoulder.

"My chocolate." I groaned.

"Forget your goddamned chocolate!" He grabbed my shoulders and began shaking me. "Listen. To. Me." He hissed. "You will not speak to him again. Got it?"

I shook his hands off my shoulders and skipped to the living room, picking up the bar again. After brushing it off, I sunk into the chair and resumed nibbling, ignoring Jace, who was swearing. He trudged towards me and sunk onto his knees.

"Please, Clary. Listen to me." He put his hands either side of me and leaned in, his face slightly lower than mine. "You know he's dangerous. I'm worried about you being near him." Jace sighed. "Okay. I _can't_ stop you from seeing him. But, when we go and see Valentine, Jocelyn and Jonathan, you will stay near me, got it?"

I sighed and nodded. Jace snatched my chocolate and broke half off for him, popping it in his mouth and sitting up beside me. He snaked his right arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. I pressed my head against his chest and chewed my chocolate in silence.


	29. Chapter 29

Morgenstern and Herondale

I was pondering about the hectic events of the past week and a half.

It was only last week that I had been informed of my engagement, and here I sat now, an unhappily married women, only sixteen. It was a strange situation really—it was so ridiculously fast! Everything had gone by in a whizzed blur.

Ditching the depressing daydreams, I sighed contently, still snuggled into Jace on the sofa. I honestly couldn't be bothered to move off him; it would only cause arguments. I listened to the steady, powerful thump of Jace's heart, memorizing the beat. My fingers were fumbling with his shirt, looking for something to do.

"I'm bored." I mumbled into his chest. "Do you wanna train?" I asked hopefully, looking up at him.

Jace's yellow eyes met mine. "No."

"No?" I repeated incredulously.

"No." He sighed.

"But…but…" I stuttered. "But we're shadowhunters."

Jace shrugged and held onto me tightly. "Yes. We are."

I sat up suddenly, frowning at him. "Let's train then."

"No." He groaned.

I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"

"I don't wanna hurt you." Jace mumbled.

"I'm sorry?" I repeated, astonished.

Jace cleared his throat, uncomfortably. "I said I don't wanna hurt you."

I narrowed my eyes to slits and growled, "I could easily knock you on your ass, Herondale."

"Don't bother taunting me," Jace smirked. "I'm not going to fight you."

I huffed and slumped back into the sofa, my mind wandering to Jonathan. The demonic process must've started by now. Oh god. Maybe I should phone him again?

"I want to phone my father." I said loudly and confidently, hiding the awful, gnawing guilt. I was being incredibly mean.

Jace shook his head. "No. I don't trust you, not after your stupid little stunt earlier."

"I want to phone my father." I hissed between my clenched teeth. "I promise."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that."

My wide, distressed eyes flicked to his. Guilt burned through me as I muttered, "I promise." We looked into each other's eyes for around a minute, none of us surrendering, gold moulding into green, before Jace pulled away and visibly clenched his jaw, pulling out his phone from his pocket. He pushed it into my hand.

"Hurry up. One minute."

I snatched it and pulled myself off the couch, walking away. I quickly hurried into the bedroom and slammed the door. I redialled Jonathan number, my eyes welling. He wouldn't answer. I tried and tried, probably wasting all of the credit. Suddenly, when all my hope had evaporated, he picked up.

"WHAT?!" Jonathan roared into the line.

I gasped. "It's me."

He groaned. "Clare-bear." He coughed and spluttered. "This isn't the best time."

"Please." I cried into the phone. "Please. Try to fight it."

"I can't." Jonathan moaned and immediately retched, dropping the phone for a minute.

Tears trailed down my cheeks. "Please. Oh please. Fight it."

"It's winning." He panted. "You know—" he gasped. "You know I won't change. I will always be me. I will. Please believe me. I will."

"I know you will." I reassured him. "I swear on the angel. I know you will. You will never change, you got that? You will never change to _me._ Jonathan—" I choked back, my ears suddenly noticing footsteps stomping down the hallway. Oh crap. Jace obviously knows. "I love you, okay? Jace is coming…Get better for me. I love you. I love you." The door yanked open and smashed into the wall, revealing a furious Jace. Oh god. I hung up abruptly and handed him the phone. He took it and threw it to the floor, bringing his foot down on it and crunching it to electrical fragments.


	30. Chapter 30

Morgenstern and Herondale 

Hastily, I scrubbed away my tears and collapsed backwards onto the bed, ignoring Jace, who was red-faced with ferociousness. I rolled onto my tummy and buried my head in the pillow, hiding my suddenly pale, freckled face. I knew what was about to happen, and I couldn't control it.

Immediately, I launched myself off the bed and snatched Jace by the front of his already-creased shirt, slamming him in frustration into the soft bamboo wall. My movements were a blurred whiz as I repeatedly smashed him into the wall, spitting out angry words. "You. Don't. Understand." I hastily kneed him where it hurt and watched, panting, as he sunk onto the hard floor, groaning and moaning. He rolled around, swearing and clutching himself. I carried on regardless, enjoying my rare moment of power.

"You have _no_ idea! Ugh!" I grabbed a fistful of my puffed curls. "You don't understand! You've been prancing into my life ever since I was ten years old! You've been taunting me, mocking me and generally making my life a living hell! But, have you ever considered what you've been doing to Jonathan? Huh?" I cupped my ear and snarled, "I can't hear you, Jace!" I began pacing angrily. "_He_ has always been the one there for me! _He_ is always there! And in return—in bloody, goddamned return, I was there for him! I have been there to get rid of his demon side!"

The anger just kept burning, rolling inside me. "But, you just _had_ to ruin _him _by marrying me! You _had_ to do that!"

I breathed heavily, closing my exhausted eyes and sighing calmly. I shook my head in disbelief. What had I just done? "Oh." I gasped quietly, squeezing my eyes. "I'm so stupid."

After regaining my normal breathing pattern, I gently tiptoed towards Jace and tiredly kneeled on the hard, cool floor, grabbing his arm. He was still clutching between his legs, eyes closed and groaning quietly. I actually managed to haul up the murmuring shadowhunter, draping his arm across my shoulder and supporting him as I began leading him down the corridor.

I guided him into the kitchen and yanked open the freezer one handed, pulling out a frozen bag of vegetables and handing it to him. Jace's eyes had opened and he gratefully took the bag, pressing it down there as I lead him to the bathroom. We reached the aqua-blue bathroom and I put the toilet lid down, making Jace sit. He sunk down and groaned. "You have a good kick." Jace grinned, half in pain.

I sighed aloud and turned towards the bath, switching on the taps. I began running the water and flung a white towel at Jace, which he looked at incredulously.

I just shrugged at him and turned towards a cabinet, rifling through it and producing two bath creams. One vanilla, one mango. I dumped half a pint of the two creams in the water, swirling it around.

I turned back to Jace. "Bath will be ready soon. Make sure it's hot enough." I whirled and stormed from the bathroom, slamming the door and leaving Jace with a questioning, but pained look. The reason I had run the bath was, well, part of an apology plan. I really didn't mean to kick him. My anger had just flared for one moment—and that was it. Jace had accidentally been the catalyst to my anger. And it wasn't even his fault.

I needed to do something else.

Dinner.

Darkness was already falling outside, so I decided to rush into the kitchen before he got out of his bath. I found all the equipment and begun chopping, dicing, slicing and frying food. I was making chargrilled chicken breast, roasted in caramelised onions and a variety of vegetables, with potatoes.

Soon enough, it was ready….


	31. Chapter 31

Morgenstern and Herondale

I heard Jace shift awkwardly behind me as I began dishing up the mouth-watering dinner. I might not be the best shadowhunter, but I could certainly cook.

I scooped the crispy-looking chicken and arranged everything on blue plates, drizzling sauces and seasoning vegetables. I yanked open the drawer and found the correct cutlery. I picked up the plates and pushed past Jace, who was silent, and walked outside, placing the plates onto the outside table.

Slowly and quietly, I sunk downwards, seating myself nervously. Jace followed my movements and here we were, both sat silently, the Jamaican air gently enveloping us.

Jace's golden eyes flashed into mine—I immediately looked away and studied the trees. Jace noticed and I heard him groan. "Look at me, baby." I clamped my mouth quiet, biting back the sarcastic remark and keeping my eyes locked on my food now. "Why won't you look at me?" I chewed my lip anxiously. "Clary…" I felt his hands engulf mine. I flinched uncontrollably. "What's wrong?" My wide eyes flickered to his. "Tell me."

"I shouldn't have hurt you." I looked away.

Jace surprised me by laughing. He grabbed my hand again and I looked at him incredulously. "Clary. I'm an ass. I deserved it." I shook my head and squinted my eyes. "Look, you didn't do anything wrong! Okay, it hurt, but not as much as it hurts to see you upset." Jace let go of my hand. "Now. Let's eat dinner. It looks absolutely delicious."

I smiled and picked up my cutlery.

I savoured every mouthful of dinner, the flavours bursting like fireworks in my mouth. Cooking was definitely my speciality. Even Jace was making stupid _hmm_ noises throughout dinner, making me giggle.

We finished the food and just sat there, talking about random things.

During our conversation, Jace fumbled through his trouser pocket and produced another phone, waving it around. "After I destroyed my other phone, I found this spare one. Your father will probably phone this in a bit. I think he wants to talk to you." And immediately, the mobile began buzzing and beeping. Jace grinned and answered it.

"Hello?" he smiled at me. "Yes, everything's going fine—Yes, Clary's fine—Yes, she's behaving—Oh, really?" Jace went on in a bored tone, until he suddenly sat up straight and coughed, cheeks flaming. "Um…No, not yet, sir—No, she's not pregnant." My eyes widened and Jace mouthed 'Help me' at me. "Yes, I know you expect grandchildren—Yes, I know—Yes, sir—I'm not sure she'll appreciate that though—No, we haven't—Yes, I know the wedding night was yesterday—Yes, I'll hand you over to her."

Jace rolled his eyes and said, "Good luck" to me, handing the phone over.

Hesitantly, I pressed it to me ear. "Hello?"

"Clarissa." Valentine snapped sternly. Jeez, what was his problem? "How is everything?"

"Fine, thank you." I squeaked weakly.

I heard him splutter on his drink. Of course he was drinking, when isn't he? "Fine?!" he mimicked me. I could practically feel his anger radiating through the phone. "How is it fine?! You and Jace haven't even slept together!"

I set my jaw and breathed deeply. "That's private."

"I don't care! Your mother and I expect grandchildren!" Valentine almost screamed.

My wide eyes flickered to Jace's; he was deep in thought, probably listening to the conversation with his sensitive angel hearing. "Okay, okay. There's no need to shout."

"Don't you give me that, young lady! I don't care if you belong to Jace now—I won't hesitate in punishing you. You are meant to stick to tradition, Clarissa! Your wedding night was yesterday! If you don't accept your new status as Jace's wife, your punishment will be severe." And he hung up. Just like that.

I shook my head in disbelief and handed Jace the phone, which he took dreamily. "Freakin psycho." I muttered, suddenly hating my father. "What did he say to you?" I asked.

"What do you think?" Jace sighed. "'Make Clary sleep with you', 'Make sure she's pregnant' and even 'Make sure you try all week'. I agree…he is a psychopath." Jace tutted in disgust. "Why would a father do that? He's not a father. I doubt he's even human. Disgusting sicko." He rambled on. "I can't believe him. Why? Why would he do this? Especially to _you_. You are so cute and beautiful."

I was blushing at this point. Jace looked over and grinned. "Sorry," he laughed. He held out his hand, which I took, and pulled me inside the house.

**Writers Note:**

**Hello! I apologise for my abrupt absence but I have been locked in my bedroom studying for days. I have tonnes of coursework and homework to catch up on, because I'm still in school!**

**I am sorry for the absence and I will hopefully continue to write daily!**

**My sincerest apologies!**

**~Georgia**


	32. Chapter 32

Morgenstern and Herondale 

I slumped sulkily onto the cream sofa, crossing my arms like a stroppy teenager. I suppose I was still a teenager though…

The sofa dipped and Jace was also sat beside me, his right arm snaking around my shoulders. I was trying to figure out why my father was a naturally born arse. Maybe his father was exactly the same. Maybe his father was abusive.

I sighed and sunk back further, the sofa swallowing me up. My head rested on Jace's warm arm and I fiddled with the hem of my dress. Maybe I shouldn't blame my father for everything. He must have been brought up like this too.

I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't hear Jace; he began shaking my shoulder, startling me from my daydreams. "Huh…Um…What?" I stuttered, blinking away the haze of thoughts.

Jace grinned at my dazed state. "I _was_ talking about whether or not we should…you know."

I frowned in suspicion. "I know what?"

Jace rolled his golden eyes. "You know."

"I obviously don't know, Jace." I huffed. "Otherwise I wouldn't ask."

Jace shook his head incredulously. "You know…" he waggled his eyebrows.

I slapped my hand to my eyes, covering them. Either I was dumb…or Jace was purposely being evasive. I kept my face buried in my hands and mumbled, "I really don't know."

I heard Jace groan loudly—and then I was pushed down into the sofa, my head against the arm rest and a weight on my body. I tore my hands away and gasped. Jace was nestled comfortably on me, his arms wrapped around me and his lips kissing my neck. That's when it clicked. Oh! He meant…Oh!

"No. Jace. No." I grabbed his wrists and tried to pry them off me, but he was persistent. His warm lips caressed the sensitive skin on my neck, making me shiver. "Jace, no."

"Why not?" Jace whispered, gently tugging my earlobe with his teeth. I fought the urge to scream loudly. "We're both married."

I whimpered. "But you're only doing this because my father told you to. Wouldn't you rather do this when…when its right?"

Jace pulled away and stared into my eyes, gold burning brightly. "Are you sure?"

I nodded and immediately crushed my lips to his. I curled my pale arms around his neck and Jace wrapped his muscular arms around my waist. Our lips moved against each other's delicately, like we were both made of china and were afraid of breaking one another. Jace became bolder and began nibbling gently on my bottom lip, tugging—and then he broke the kiss, staring into my emerald eyes. I looked back at him, a content, bubbly feeling settling in my stomach.

I felt amazing.

Jace pressed his lips to my forehead and then to my flushed cheek. He pressed kisses down to my chin, totally avoiding my lips. Finally, Jace pressed his lips to mine again and crushed my body against his. I pressed my hands against his chest and gasped.

Jace pulled back and grinned. "I love you." He pecked my lips and pulled us both into a sitting position. I was regrettably sat on his lap, which was awkward. I couldn't get comfortable and kept shifting. Jace's arms clamped around me, freezing me on the spot. "Would you stop bloody moving?" Jace chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"I can't get comfy." I hissed.

Jace laughed and kissed my neck lovingly. "Baby, just stay still."

"Don't call me baby." I huffed. "I still hate that name."

He laughed again. "Come on, baby." I narrowed my eyes. "Let's go to bed."

"Just bed." I told him. "Nothing else. Just bed. Sleeping."

Jace rolled his eyes. "Yes. Just bed."


	33. Chapter 33

Morgenstern and Herondale

'Just bed' turned out to be Jace sprawled across the tangled cream duvet, hands behind his dishevelled golden hair, only dressed in a pair of small white boxers. I came into the bedroom, dressed in another ridiculous nightie, and nearly had a heart attack.

Jace just kept laughing, wiggling his hips suggestively whilst I clapped my hands across my eyes. "Baby, come get into bed with me." Blindly, I fumbled around the room, my hands still hiding the stupid view, and stumbled into the bed. I quickly turned around and faced away from my annoying husband, pulling the duvet up under my arms. Jace immediately wrapped his strong arms around my tummy and pulled me to him.

God, I wanted to slap him sometimes!

He tucked my head under his chin and chuckled lightly.

"What's so funny?" I huffed, annoyed.

Laughter vibrated through his body, into mine. "Just thinking. You absolutely loathed me at the start of this week. You refused to go near me or even talk to me. Now look."

"Whatever." I snapped, curling in on myself.

Jace laughed and grabbed me again, pulling me playfully to him. "Aw baby, don't let me upset you!"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to sleep."

I felt Jace plant a kiss on my hair and snuggle closer as I began slowly drifting off…

Unfortunately, it only felt like one minute until I woke up. I glanced at the clock—2.05am. Great. I felt perspiration on my forehead as I shifted out of Jace's constricting arms and swung my legs off the bed. The floor was freezing as I padded quietly out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. I quickly guzzled a glass of water, savouring the cold feeling surge into my tummy.

Maybe it was the anxiety of seeing my father again that was keeping me up? Or the fact that nerves were chewing ravenously at me whenever I thought of Jonathan?

I never found out because I heard something, and acting only on shadowhunter instincts, I snatched a knife from the side and flung it. I gasped when I saw Jace with wide eyes, glancing at the knife that was buried in the wall beside his head. "I'm so sorry!" I groaned.

Jace crossed his arms, making me notice that he was only dressed in his boxers. I adverted my eyes quickly. "Its fine baby." Jace sauntered over to me and took my face in his hands. "I want to do something." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine deeply, gently nibbling on my lip. It was only a short kiss, but it was filled with so much love and determination.

I was breathing heavily. "What was that for?" I whispered.

Jace kept his hands cupped around my face. "I don't know." He laughed quietly. "Now come back to bed, baby." He snatched my hand and slowly lead me back to the bedroom.


	34. Chapter 34

Morgenstern and Herondale

I stirred, feeling mildly irritated and…angry? I frowned and shifted, my eyes still clamped shut, and shoved Jace's annoying arms off me. And then I thought of something…Did my mother pack everything I needed? Especially the girly stuff!

Uh oh. Before I made the bed look like a crime scene, I launched myself up and sprinted from the bedroom, ignoring some muffled protests from Jace. Dammit! It was Friday! How could I forget?

I rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it. Quickly, I fumbled through the cabinets, hoping and praying that my mother packed the essentials. I sighed contently when I found the little pink box and done my thing, ignoring Jace who was inquiring random questions behind the door. Stupid idiot.

Once finished, I massaged my head and tried to control my hormones. With deep breaths, I calmly unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. Jace was still scantily dressed in his goddamned boxers, and he was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed.

I smiled. "Can I help you?"

Jace raised an eyebrow. "Why the abrupt escape?"

My eyes widened as I thought up an excuse. I stuttered, "I-I was…feeling sick. I'm fine now." I clutched my stomach dramatically. "Now, if you'll excuse me." I attempted to dodge past Jace, but he remained still, refusing to move. "Jace." I growled, anger finally seeping through. "Move. Now."

Jace frowned. "What's wrong, baby?" he asked sincerely. Pfft, ask away! I wouldn't tell him!

I raised my eyebrows in mock disbelief. "Nothing is wrong." Unfortunately, my voice was way too high. I coughed and repeated in my normal voice, "Nothing's wrong."

"Why don't I believe you?" Jace said.

I shrugged. "Because you have trust issues?"

Jace rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine." He moved out of the way and politely let me through.

"Thank you." I walked out and groaned when Jace stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Looks like I'm not the only one in their girly week.


End file.
